


On a Wednesday in a Cafe

by harrietspecter



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: AU- Coffee Shop, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-28
Updated: 2014-09-17
Packaged: 2017-11-27 06:32:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/658967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrietspecter/pseuds/harrietspecter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coffee Shop AU. She was the intriguing woman in the corner. He needed a coffee shop that knew how to make a decent cup. Neither expected what was next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is dedicated to one of my friends who had a list of prompts she wanted filled. So, Emilia, I hope this suits you! If not, I am sorry and I'll do better next time :) To the rest of you, enjoy.

The streets of Manhattan were busy and bustling even at six o'clock in the morning. He really hated that winter meant the sun wasn't even up at this time. What made it worse was his secretary had yet to find instructions on how to make a decent cup of coffee. He really didn't have time for this or to make it on his own time. After all, that's what the coffee chains were for: making a perfect cup of coffee and ripping him off at the same time. He didn't mind the ripping off part, he had enough money to cover that expense. He just hasn't found a place that was worth the hassle yet. He had yet to find a coffee shop that served coffee that didn't taste like burned beans or warmed milk. He wasn't proud of resorting to this level but Louis knew the city's best finds. Which was the only reason why he had come with his fellow associate to the coffee shop five blocks away from Pearson Hardman. Plus, Louis said he'd do the paperwork for all his financial cases for three months if he hated it. But Louis was positive Harvey wouldn't be disappointed. Harvey on the other hand held a certain amount of skepticism like he always did with Louis's instances. They turned a corner and came to an abrupt stop.

"Ta-da," Louis announced with a flourish. He did this thing with his hand that looked like Vanna White taught him as he pointed at the sign above their heads.

"Le Chat?" Harvey asked. Anything that was named after a cat was bound to be disappointing. Especially if it was French. He briefly wondered why people always named coffee places after some kind of exotic language. If it was just  _The Cat_ , people would this it was some kind of brothel.

"They have these petite scones that are to die for," Louis nodded and opened the door. "And I don't know if you like croissants or not but their triple chocolate one is delicious. And there's nothing made of strawberries in here, which is a perk."

Harvey raised an eyebrow and walked inside. He expected frilly furniture, perhaps frilly drapes lining the windows and butter yellow on every available wall. What he got was a nautical colouring: walls a deep blue on the bottom and a slight eggshell coloured white on the top half. The two halves separated by a sturdy, dark wood. Old wood tables aligned the windows and the walls, small two seater ones. Quaint but practical for a small space in New York City. The paintings and photographs on the wall seemed typical for a French-named coffee shop. Photographs of ballet dancers in black and white aligned the wall. As well as various pictures of French monuments anyone with half a mind for popular history could figure out what they were. There was a single woman at the back he paid no attention to as he looked around with a crucial eye. She didn't even seem to notice the intrusion, deep into whatever she was reading as she turned a crisp page of a paper.

"Not bad, right?" A voice asked from behind him.

"I'm here for the coffee, Louis. Not the frilly atmosphere you seem to appreciate," Harvey said.

He swore the only occupant in the room laughed low at his quip. He couldn't be sure though since her face was covered by the paper. He stood a bit straighter and walked to the counter.

An array of pastries covered one section of the counter. He noticed the scones and croissants Louis mentioned but he was here for one thing: the coffee. He didn't need the frilly food to go with it.

"Vanilla spice latte," Harvey said as he looked up at the board of coffees. "12 ounces."

The woman behind the counter nodded and wrote in sharpie his order on the white paper cup. He handed over a crisp five dollar bill and dumped the change into the small tip jar. No one should jingle, ever.

As he waited in the corner for his coffee, he watched Louis peruse the pastry selection. He shook his head and sighed, they'd be there a while. When the barista handed him his coffee he thanked her and gave her a charming smile. He walked to the seating, leaving Louis to his own devices. He had what he came here for, he didn't need Louis's version of help anymore. As he sat down he frowned to himself. He didn't consciously choose to sit there, his swore his feet moved on their own accord. He kept glancing at the woman half hidden by the paper. Somehow she intrigued him by the way she seemed to read the paper as if it was going to be the last thing she ever read. The only thing he could tell about her for certain was that she had red hair and liked bright coloured nail polish. The shocking pink was alarming against the greyish-white of the newspaper she held. When she folded the paper down she wasn't what he was expecting. Instead of a college age student that her nails led him to believe, she was his age, or so he thought.

She turned and looked at him and he avoided her gaze. He saw her take a sip from her own coffee with the corner of his eye. He unconsciously mimicked her, taking his own sip. He seemed surprised at the flavour. For once it was a perfect milk to coffee ratio. Taking another sip, he enjoyed the balance of spice and vanilla on his tongue. He hated it when Louis was right.

"Louis seems intent on making this trip hell for you," she said.

Harvey's eyebrows knitted in confusion as he looked up at her. Wide brown eyes and ivory white skin looked at him. Her lips held a smirk and he noticed the hint of pearly white teeth through the sliver of a genuine smile underneath the smirk she wore.

"He orders the same thing every time he's in here. He either wants you to hate this place or love it. Since you took more than a sip of your coffee, I'm guessing you like it," the red head noted at his look and silence after her first observation.

"You were reading the paper," Harvey said. He felt like an idiot if that was his comeback to her observations.

"Was I?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Harvey's head titled slightly.

"Who are you?" Harvey asked.

The red head stood up from her table, lugging her bag onto her shoulder and smirked. He took in the business attire and wondered what she did. As she wrapped the white scarf around her neck, he realised he wasn't going to get answers. She was leaving. She moved to his table and handed him the paper she had been reading. He looked up at her as she squared the paper and a lacquered nail tapped the paper's header.

"Who am I not?" she said with a small laugh.

Before he could ask anything else, she slowly walked out the door and into the busy streets of Downtown.

* * *

A week later Harvey stepped into the coffee shop. He had gotten out of court and needed something to tide him over between the court appearance and his next meeting at the office. The next client was sure to give him a headache and he needed a boost to keep him awake as the old man was certain to talk about how things were run "back in his day". Ray had wordlessly driven to the coffee shop and was told to circle around the block, he'd only be a minute.

His eyes adjusted from the outside to the inside lighting and briefly wondered why it was always empty whenever he came here. His eyes narrowed slightly as he noticed the woman that had been there a week before was waiting at the counter in front of him. This time her hair was up in a bun. Unlike last week where she was dressed in professional business attire, she looked like a college kid. The leggings emphasised her curves only deterred by the oversized sweater she wore. His eyebrows raised as he noticed the leg warmers. Last time he checked, he wasn't in the 80's. Her nail polish had changed, too. From shocking pink to a deep, dark colour he couldn't identify off-hand.

He cleared his throat and the chatter between the mysterious red head and the woman behind the counter ceased. He took the opportunity to give the woman behind the counter his order. He was the one on the schedule and it didn't look like either woman had anywhere else to go. As the barista made his cup of coffee, the mysterious red head turned to face him.

She looked him over, acknowledging his presence but doing nothing more than take her cup and bag from the counter. She turned and nodded a goodbye to the barista and side stepped him.

He watched her leave and was graced with a small smile as she leaned against the door with her back to open it up. He felt his own lips upturn before he realised what he was doing.

~z~

"Louis," Harvey said as he strode into the man in question's office without so much as a knock. "The coffee shop. The red head. She's there every time?"

"Every day for the past three months I've been there. Except for Tuesdays and Thursdays. I'm not sure why," Louis nodded. "Why?"

"She seems to be the only one in there when I'm there," he shrugged. He was about to leave when Louis cleared his throat. He turned back, knowing it was a signal.

"You like it?" Louis asked.

"I told you that when we came back from it a week ago," Harvey told him.

"I wasn't sure because you didn't go any other day that week," Louis shrugged.

"I was wining and dining clients. Coffee doesn't really pair well with red wine and scotch," Harvey noted.

When he stayed silent for more than a minute Harvey figured Louis was done. He was about to turn and head back to his office when Louis said something to him.

"What?" Harvey asked.

"Donna," Louis said.

"What?" Harvey asked again. He didn't understand where this was going.

"Her name, the red head? Her name is Donna. She does ballet and some kind of acting classes at NYU," Louis rambled.

"Student?" Harvey wondered.

"Professor, instructor," Louis shrugged. "I never asked her to distinguish between the two."

"How do you know this?" Harvey asked.

"I like the ballet, she's in the ballet world. She's the one who introduced me to the coffee shop. So, you should really be thanking her for the introduction to perfect beans and coffee to milk ratio," Louis informed him. His grin was getting wider. It was time to vacate his office before he said anything else or got too cocky for his own good. There was only room for one inflated ego at Pearson Hardman and Harvey wasn't going to give the title up.

Harvey was about to leave when Louis stopped him again.

"If I put in a good word for you does that make me your wing man?" Louis asked.

"I don't need a wing man, Louis," Harvey told him.

"Suit yourself," Louis shrugged.

Harvey exited the office before any more could be said on the topic. He had a name and that was all he needed for now. He could get the other half the next time he saw her.

* * *

The next time they actually ran into one another, she was ordering her coffee. She was back in her professional looking clothing, a pant suit this time around. He frowned at the complicated beverage but said nothing. Instead, he waited with her and followed her with his eyes until she disappeared into the section with tables. As soon as his coffee was finished, he moved to follow her. As he stepped up to her table, he cleared his throat. She didn't look up but the pen in her hand lifted off the paper in front of her.

"Why the skim milk and no sugar but you want extra whipped cream?" he asked.

She looked up from the paper she had been marking up and gave him a once over. Her eyebrows rose as he sat in the seat across from her without asking. He set his coffee beside the stack of papers with marks already made with her blue pen.

"Why blue? Don't professors use red?" he asked.

"You ask a lot of questions. I don't even know your name," Donna said as she leaned back in her chair.

"Harvey. Harvey Specter," Harvey supplied. With the addition of his last name, he hoped to gain hers.

"Donna," was all she supplied.

"So, now that we've met are you going to answer my question?" he asked. He'd get her last name out of her sooner or later. A part of him really wanted it to be the former and not the latter.

"Questions," was all Donna supplied.

"What?" Harvey asked. He was starting to get a complex. He said  _what_  too many times around this woman already.

"You asked two questions, and you said  _are you going to answer my question_ ," Donna told him.

"Semantics," Harvey shrugged. "What are you, some kind of lawyer?"

"No, but you are," she smirked as his face morphed into shock and then became impassive. "You're wearing a $10,000 dollar suit, you carried a briefcase last week when I saw you, and you talk in circles," Donna shrugged.

"You sure you're not a lawyer?" Harvey asked. He gave her a small smile as one bloomed on her own face. "I could be a business executive."

"They're on their phone 24/7, you're not. I watch a lot of tv," she said as she tilted her head. "It makes me believe I can tell whether or not someone is going to kidnap me or is secretly a serial killer."

"Do I pass the test?" he asked.

"You ask too many questions to want to do me any harm. Haven't decided whether or not you're potential stalker material," she laughed as his face dropped. "You're safe, I think."

Harvey's face gained a small smile at her words. Brown eyes met brown and they kept the contact longer than strictly necessary.

She capped the pen and looked at her watch. She took out a folder Harvey didn't realise she had and gathered all her papers. Her hands brushed his arm and he watched her rearrange the papers into a neat stack before returning the folder to the bag. He followed her movements this time around to a bag slung around the side of her chair. Before he knew what was happening, she was up and the cup of coffee and red head was out the door. He grabbed his cup and moved to follow her out the door.

"Wait," Harvey said as she moved to step off the sidewalk and cross the street.

She paused mid-step, and he prided himself on his quick thinking.

"Can I see you tomorrow?" Harvey asked when she turned to face him. It was Thursday, she wouldn't be here but that made it all the more tempting to him. He liked the occasional puzzle.

"If you can find me," she said with a small laugh and a smile playing on her lips.

"I don't even know your name," he told her.

"Paulsen," she said. "It's Donna Paulsen."

Harvey watched as she crossed the street before he could say anything else. He stared after her, watching until the familiar red of her hair was no longer visible in the sea of business executives. Shaking himself into the moment, he figured he needed to do some research. And if all else failed he could enlist Louis for his information.

* * *

He heard a clicking of heels against the laminate floor and looked up. She hadn't noticed him -she was in the middle of a walk and talk- which gave him an advantage. He noticed as soon as she spotted him, however.

She couldn't help the smile that fell across her face as she saw him leaning against the wall of her office door.

"You found me," she greeted him with a small smile.

"The internet is full of information, Donna Paulsen with a BFA, MFA and Ph.D. from Juilliard and NYU's Tisch School of the Arts," Harvey greeted her.

"You can't teach at a university without a PhD," Donna said as she unlocked her door. Leaving the door open as she walked in, he followed behind.

"Pretty sure my math professor here didn't have a Ph.D.," Harvey said off hand. "Does that mean I should call you doctor?"

"God no," she shook her head. "I'm not one of those sticklers. Why use a doctorate when I can use my feminine wiles and wit?"

He closed the door with a laugh and watched her walk around her desk, tossing her bag on the floor and kicking her heels off underneath her desk.

"I think this internet research bumps you up to the stalker level again," she said with a laugh.

His eyes narrowed, and he sighed.

"Louis didn't help you with your research?" she asked.

"He told me your first name and asked to be my wingman," Harvey told her. "The internet doesn't ask me for things. Although, your department picture does not do you justice."

She laughed and shook her head.

"You don't think I look like a hand-drawn, bald, 'no picture available' face?" she smirked. "I told them to thin the face a little. Guess they didn't listen."

She was funny and kept up with his banter, he mused.

"You can sit. Despite what it says on the websites the students use, I don't bite," Donna said as she gestured to the chairs in her office.

Harvey nodded but didn't follow the instructions just yet. Instead, he wordlessly handed her a bag and a coffee from behind his back.

"One triple, non-fat, sugar-free mocha latte with extra whipped cream," he said with a slight amount of flourish.

"You are a prince among men," she said as she took the cup and inhaled the sweet yet bitter aroma as she took the lid off the coffee. She dipped her finger into the whipped cream that still lingered at the top of the coffee and sighed.

Harvey looked around her office and noticed the pristine cleanliness. She didn't have many knickknacks, three diplomas hung on the wall behind her chair. He did a double take at the chair.

"We have the same chair," he noted.

"It's comfortable after hours of being on your feet," Donna shrugged as she adjusted herself to get more comfortable on the chair. "What's in the bag?"

"You're not curious enough to find out for yourself?" he asked.

She looked at him, the bag, and back to him. Carefully she took the bakery's sticker off the bag and peered inside. She bit her lip as she stuck her hand in and Harvey watched her eyes take in the pastry.

"How did you know?" she asked with a gasp.

"They know your order. The woman smirked at me as if she was in on some kind of secret," Harvey said as he sat down.

"Long, black hair, tied up in a bun?" Donna asked.

Harvey nodded.

"She's a student in my next class. She always brings me this on Tuesdays and Thursdays because I get an hour break and spend it here in my office because its in my contract," Donna sighed. "Maybe you're a few spots up from prince with this addition."

Harvey couldn't help the grin. He watched her lean back and savour the triple chocolate croissant. As she made headway on the pastry he looked around the office. He noted that her bookshelves were filled to the brim with literature books, acting manuals and a worn set of ballet shoes.

"Tell me what you found on the internet," Donna said between bites of the pastry.

"I went on your department website," Harvey shrugged.

"You'd make for a really awful stalker," Donna told him.

"I did make my associate pull your thesis and all your research in the academic journals. Not that I understood it," he said.

"Don't like British playwriting in the 18th century?" Donna laughed.

"Can't say I've ever watched it," Harvey shrugged.

"Oh, you've watched it. You just don't know it," Donna nodded.

He nodded, taking her word for it.

"I learned about you, you know," Donna said as she picked a chunk of dark chocolate from the middle of the croissant.

"My profile at the law firm?" Harvey asked.

"Unlike you, I'd make a great stalker," Donna shook her head.

Harvey raised and eyebrow, and she took it as an invitation to continue.

"Stop me if my internet research lied to me," she began. "Fifth in your class at Harvard law, first in your class right here. Well, NYU, not Tisch per say. Worked for the DA's office for two years and switched to Pearson Hardman almost a decade ago. Since then, you haven't lost a case and you're said to be the city's best closer. Forbes says your one of the most sought-after, top millionaire bachelors in New York City, and you turn 30 in two weeks and two days."

Harvey leaned back in the chair and nodded.

"You're good," he noted.

"I take pride in my ability to do thorough research," Donna noted.

"I feel like I should have hired my private investigator instead of doing the research myself," Harvey said.

"Why research when the source is right here in front of you?" Donna smirked.

"How come you write in blue pen?" he asked suddenly. His eyes had fixated on an essay laying across her desk. Her elegant and very legible script was written in blue ink rather than the harsh red he remembered on his essays in his academic career.

She finished her croissant and took a healthy drink of her coffee before she attempted to answer his question.

"When they see red they don't read it. Blue is much softer despite my sometimes scathing marks," Donna shrugged.

"Maybe I'll try that technique on my associate," Harvey said.

"I doubt coddling your associate is the image you try to maintain," Donna said. "My students have fragile, artistic egos. Which I why I have to soothe them with the colour of ink I use."

Harvey watched as she leaned across the expanse between her chair and the floor where her bag lay. She pulled folders out of her bag and tossed them onto a shelf behind her.

"Lay it on me," she said as she leaned back in her chair.

"What?" he asked.

"I hear Harvey Specter has a certain amount of charm. So, lay it on me since that was the only question you seemed to have," she smirked as she crossed her hands on her stomach.

Donna paused mid-sentence as a student appeared at her door. Harvey turned and watched as the student stood, shifting from side to side. He turned back to her and she looked at the clock on her desktop computer.

"Office hours, the contractual obligation," was all she supplied.

"I'll make myself scarce," Harvey nodded.

"Give me fifteen minutes," she said. "It will give you time to prepare."

He stood and shook his head, not containing the grin that crossed his lips. Of course she'd get the last say. He nodded and buttoned his suit jacket. He nodded to the student and smirked over the younger woman's head as he shut the door to give them a bit of privacy. Of course the door didn't stop him from hearing what the student said:  _that your boyfriend Doctor P? He's fine_. He held himself proud as he roamed the hallway her office was in, checking out the various pictures of her teaching on the wall next to her office.

~z~

The student left ten minutes later than he was promised and Harvey poked his head in to find her laughing.

"I'm sorry, I just imagined you doing that as a kid. You had this wide-eyed look that reminded me of my nephew when he peeks around the corner trying to stay up past his bed time at Christmas," Donna said as she beckoned him back in.

"I'm glad I can be so amusing?" he said with a slight question in his voice.

"She took longer than I expected, so I have to leave," she said, and he looked at his watch.

"Teaching?" he asked.

"Until 10," she nodded.

He looked at his watch noting it was quickly approaching 6pm. Four hours of teaching was brutal, he thought to himself.

She stood up from her chair and he watched as she slipped in her heels again. She gained a few inches and as he stepped closer he realised her heels made her level with him.

"Running on only a croissant and coffee?" Harvey asked.

"I have a snack for the break," she shrugged.

He followed her wordlessly after she grabbed a book from her shelf and shoved it in her bag. Instead of parting at the door he walked side by side with her down the long stretch of hallways.

"Why me?" she asked quietly.

There was little activity in the hall, but she felt like this conversation had to be talked about before they made any more moves forward.

Harvey tilted his head and wordlessly asked  _what_.

"I may be the top professor in my departments but I don't make nearly as much as you. I'm sure my condo could fit in your condo's kitchen. You could have any woman in New York City yet you choose to see me outside the coffee shop and you barely even know me," Donna rambled. Her hands were gesturing between the two of them. As if there was a visible difference he didn't seem to take notice of right away.

"You intrigue me," he shrugged. "You seem to be the only woman I've met who can one-up me on any topic."

"You're good," she said with a small smile.

He shook his head and looked over at her.

"Not a line. At least not a line I've used before," he told her.

"Really?" she asked only slightly skeptical.

He nodded as they came to a stop at the last door in the hallway.

"What about tomorrow," he asked.

"What about it?" she asked as she looked in the window of the classroom.

"Are you free at any point?" he wondered.

"From two to almost four," she nodded.

"I have a client at three," he told her.

"What are you asking?" she wondered. She knew what she interpreted it as but wondered if they were on the same wave length.

"Have coffee with me," he said.

"As in?" Donna trailed off.

"As in a date for poor college students but it's only because we have a small window of opportunity," he said. He watched as she tilted her head and noticed the moment she made her decision. "If we had longer, I'd take you to lunch or dinner."

"Okay," she nodded.

"Okay?" he parroted.

She nodded and repeated her answer. She watched a genuine smile appear on his face.

"Now you have to go because I have to go teach," she said with her own smile. "And you probably have whatever it is white collar lawyers do at six o'clock."

"I only know your department phone number," he said just as she was about to open the door.

She took her hand off the handle, and her fingers disappeared into her bag before coming out with a slip of a business card.

She handed him the card, his fingers brushing along hers as he plucked it from her fingers. She had already written her cell phone number on the back of the card. She was sneaky but so was he.

"Smooth move," she said with a smile.

He watched as she opened the door to the classroom and heard her greeting the students. He watched as she reached the podium before turning and heading for the exit with an extra spring in his step. Who needed a wingman when he could use his own charm, he thought to himself.

* * *

Harvey walked off the elevator with a carefully concealed spring in his step. He nodded at Jessica and the older woman did a double take as he walked away. He didn't get very far, Jessica catching him halfway to his office.

"Should I ask who or what put the spring in your step?" Jessica asked.

"You can ask but what you really should know is I'm not going to answer," Harvey smirked.

"Mike isn't with you, so you didn't win a case," Jessica observed.

Harvey took his messages from his secretary and walked into his office. Jessica followed and sat at the edge of his desk as he sat in his chair. He looked up at Jessica and shook his head.

As Jessica stared him down and Harvey pointedly ignored him, Louis walked in with his nose buried in a file.

"Harvey I know you don't want a wing man but I know what Donna likes more than you do... Jessica, hi," Louis trailed off as he noticed their boss and Harvey's look.

"Donna," Jessica said with a smirk. "What's she like?"

"None of your business and I swear to everything you hold dear, Louis, if you say anything we're done," Harvey said as he looked between both of them.

Louis opened his mouth and closed it as soon as Harvey pointed a finger towards him.

"I'll just come back later," Louis finally said as he scurried away.

Harvey pushed away from his desk, and Jessica followed him with her eyes.

"You like this woman," she noted. "You're never secretive unless you like them. Which has never happened."

Harvey turned to the windows of his office and sighed.

"I don't even know the woman," he said. "All I know is her complicated coffee order, and she's some kind of ridiculously smart associate professor who has the same chair as me," Harvey said.

"Same chair?" Jessica asked as she raised an eyebrow and folder her arms across her chest.

"I just came from her office," Harvey shrugged. "Yesterday she said if I could find her, I could see her."

"You found her," Jessica noted.

"I brought her coffee and a croissant, and we got to know each other until a student interrupted," Harvey told her.

"Yet you walked in here with a spring in your step like you just won your biggest case," Jessica smirked. She noticed the coffee cup next to his laptop and nodded to it.

"Is that where you're going?" she asked.

"It's where we met," Harvey nodded. He had stopped in for his latte before returning to his office.

"They have good croissants," Jessica nodded.

"Wait, you knew about this place, too?" Harvey asked.

"Harvey it's five blocks from the office. I'm surprised you didn't know about it sooner," Jessica laughed. "What's her name?"

"Donna Paulsen," Harvey said quietly.

"As in the former prima ballerina of the New York City Ballet?" Jessica asked.

"I don't know. She teaches mostly graduates in the Department of Dance but she's also in the Department of Drama with undergrads," Harvey shrugged his shoulders. "She went to Juilliard and NYU."

"Red hair, tall and graceful?" Jessica asked.

Harvey nodded.

"I always wondered where she went," Jessica mused.

"She left?" Harvey asked. He was confused now.

"She left the company suddenly and there's been little mention of her since in the arts world. She's been under everyone's nose this whole time," Jessica said.

Harvey sat between his baseballs on the ledge of his window railing.

"The city's best closer and one of the city's greatest ballerinas, never thought I'd see the day," Jessica smirked.

"I need to work on this case," Harvey said.

"And by case you mean to find out more about your date," Jessica noted. "I know when I'm not wanted. Call me if you have any questions."

Harvey waved her out the door and watched Jessica shut the door to his office. A sign he wanted some alone time. Time spent researching the woman who captivated him the moment she set the paper down and pinned him with her dark eyes.

* * *

He had her coffee and her croissant waiting for her as she walked in the door. The smile she gave him was worth it as she sat down across from him.

"How long have you been here?" she asked.

"Five minutes," Harvey shrugged. "You look different."

"Is that your way of telling someone they look like crap?" She asked between a sip of coffee.

"It's a neutral observation," he said. His fingers played with the paper cup. The only hint of nervousness he allowed to show.

She rubbed her fingers against her temple and sighed. She put a smile on her face and folded her hands on the table. She whispered an apology and he shook his head.

"I meant to get here on time but the student from yesterday came back with a new thesis that was even worse than yesterday's," she told him.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" he asked.

"More than usual actually," she nodded. She looked up and noticed he was studying her more openly than he had in the past few times they had made eye contact and conversation.

"You found out more about me," she deduced.

"My boss seems to know you pretty well," he nodded. "Prima ballerina for the New York City Ballet, honorary artist of the Royal Ballet, and you gave it all up to teach students?"

She looked him over and noticed there was no judgment, only open curiosity on his face. She looked down at the table and she began to fidget with her hands.

He leaned in closer and his hands extended past his cup. His outstretched fingers touched her knuckles, soft skin meeting his calloused fingertips as her folded hands held one of his fingers in a light touch across the table. He watched her shoulders sag in relief and held his fingers in her grasp for a moment longer before releasing them.

"My father never missed a show," she began quietly. Her voice was low enough to have a private conversation in the back corner of the coffee shop.

"He was proud of my sisters but I was always the favourite," she smiled fondly already lost in memories. The smile turned as she looked up at him. "It was my last show in the city before I was supposed to start at the Royal Ballet for two years. Cortland to New York City is an icy drive."

Harvey licked his lips, and he swallowed through the lump in his throat. He could deduce the facts.

"After the final show, I stayed in Cortland until my oldest sister and her family moved back a month later. Her kids helped soften the blow for our mom. There wasn't anything else I could do so I got my doctorate and eventually people forgot about Donna Paulsen the prima ballerina and I was the strict, hard ass professor at NYU. Undergrad and Grad students can't escape me if they want the best education."

"You teach ballet though," Harvey noted.

"Teaching isn't the same as performing. Just because I gave up on the art doesn't mean I don't want to share what I know. Maybe one day an American can get the highest ballet distinction."

She looked up at Harvey and noticed how he didn't seem repulsed or downcast with her story. If anything, he looked understanding over any other emotion.

"This was not how today was supposed to go," she said. "I'm sorry. I should go."

Before he realised she was off and had forgone her coffee and croissant. Leaving his own coffee there at the table he moved to intercept her.

"You like leaving quickly," Harvey said as he caught her and stepped in front of her to halt her forward progress.

"Harvey," Donna tried to sidestep him, but he moved in front of her.

"Donna," he countered. He placed a hand on her wrist and watched her shoulders slump in defeat.

"I'm not a charity case," she told him.

"What gave you the idea I thought you were?" he asked.

"The look you gave me," Donna told him. She ran her fingers through her hair and shook her head slightly.

"That was a look of understanding. I'm sorry if it looked like pity," Harvey said.

"Understanding?" Donna asked.

"Come back inside, and I'll tell you why," Harvey tried.

"Are you bribing me?" she asked with a slight laugh.

"Depends. Is it working?" he wondered.

"A little, yeah," she nodded.

His fingers closed around her wrist and brought her back to the coffee shop. Their coffee and her croissant were still waiting in the back corner.

He pulled out her chair and sat her down. He removed her bag from her shoulder and moved it to the back of her chair. He wrapped one of her hands around her coffee and sat down opposite of her. As he watched her drink the coffee in front of her, he took a minute to look at the time.

"Give me a minute?" he asked.

She nodded and he pulled out his phone. She wondered who Mike was but didn't question him as he talked on the phone. Instead she picked at the croissant and gave a small smile as the familiar taste of chocolate and flakey, buttery goodness met her taste buds.

As soon as the call began it ended, and he turned back to her.

"The day I got my promotion to junior partner is the day my father had a heart attack," Harvey began.

Donna's brow furrowed and her hands froze as Harvey began his tale.

"I was working on a major case within the firm. He called a few days before but I was too busy to have an actual conversation with him so he said he'd call back later. Three days later instead of a phone call from him I got a phone call from my dad's friend," Harvey said. He didn't tell this story, ever. Despite it having been five years ago it was still hard to say out loud. He continued to stare at the table top and his fingers tapped a rhythm.

Her hand covered his and ceased the rhythm.

"I'm sorry," she said as her fingers brushed against his.

Harvey nodded and looked up noticing her biting her lip and staring at their hands.

"We're quite the pair," she said with a quiet laugh.

He couldn't help the small laugh as hers rang out softly.

"The phone call was to your associate?" she asked.

"You sure you're not my stalker?" he asked.

"It's 3:15 and you're still here despite the meeting with your client that was supposed to start 15 minutes ago," Donna deduced.

"You listen well," Harvey nodded.

"Occupational hazard," she shrugged.

"I'll walk you to school," he said.

"How long have you been waiting to use that line?" she asked.

"A while," he smirked.

She shook her head and released his hand before picking up her bag. He picked up their full coffees and dumped them in the trash before ordering two more of the same. She made to protest but he told her that he insisted. He handed her the newly made, extra hot, triple, non-fat, sugar free mocha latte before holding open the door and exiting the coffee shop.

Their walk was made in silence, their arms brushing as they avoided the other pedestrians and tourists. She looked up at him twice before making the decision to take his hand in hers. She noted it was a good decision after she watched the smile play on his lips and his grip on her hand tightened until they reached the building that encased the world-famous dramatic arts school and her office.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"It was just coffee," he shrugged nonchalantly. "Next time will be better."

"Next time?" she asked. Her voice raised an octave in surprise.

"I'll wine and dine you," he announced.

"I'll have to play dress up," she told him.

"Is that supposed to be a turn-off?" he asked and was rewarded with a laugh and a shake of her head.

"Okay," she nodded.

He gave her a toothy grin, and he nodded, proud of himself.

She smiled, her eyes narrowing slightly as the corner of her eyes wrinkled slightly. She tugged slightly on his hand and the balance was upset. He couldn't be mad since she ended up closer to him, her lips on the corner of his lips. He turned his head slightly to indulge both him and her. She acquiesced and he could feel the smile against his lips as she pressed her lips against his in a firmer kiss.

"Good night, Harvey," she whispered against his lips.

"Night, Donna," he said as he gave her a soft smile.

She watched as he walked away, turning back as he walked back the way he came. She couldn't help touching her lips and smiling fondly at his retreating form.

* * *

Two weeks later he made good on his promise to wine and dine her. Of course between the two weeks he brought her coffee with and without the croissant. Sometimes he'd give her a scone instead and claim he was making her branch out and try new things.

Tonight he had Ray pick her up and bring her to the office since she ended her day before he did.

He waited just passed the security scanners and watched as she took in the entry way of Pearson Hardman.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hi," she smiled.

He took in the black dress, simple but sophisticated, and her long hair flowing down her back. He placed his hand at the small of her back and brought her passed security with a simple nod of his head.

She waited in his office as he finished a meeting in the conference room next door. She was browsing his record collection, looking but not touching. She didn't expect the woman to walk in.

"Donna Paulsen?" the woman asked, and Donna nodded. "Jessica Pearson."

"Harvey's boss," Donna nodded. "He told me about you."

"I was a big fan of yours," Jessica noted.

"Thanks," Donna said with a small smile.

"I hear you teach now," Jessica said as she entered the space and sat on the arm of the couch by Donna.

"Just down the street at Tisch," she nodded.

"Does Harvey know you also own the coffee shop he frequents?" Jessica asked.

"How?" Donna trailed off.

"Anyone who has followed your career knows your silhouette. The pictures and paintings on the wall, they're of you aren't they?"

"I've been trying to think of a creative way to tell him," she said as she nodded.

Jessica smirked.

"You could always tell him tomorrow morning," Jessica noted.

"You're pretty sure of this date being a success story," Donna said as she looked Jessica in the eye.

"Harvey's going home before midnight again, and he's actually taking breaks and not working himself to death," Jessica confided in the younger woman. "I'd say he likes you as much as you like him."

Donna shook her head and laughed to herself.

"I'll bear that in mind," she said.

"Good," Jessica nodded. "I'll even give him a half day tomorrow for a birthday present to him."

Donna bit her lip, and her cheeks flushed a shade of pink.

"Ready?" Harvey said suddenly appearing in the doorway of his office.

Donna and Jessica both looked up, and Donna nodded.

As Harvey waited at the edge of his office, Donna turned to face Jessica.

"I'll come back and give you and Louis a signed Playbill," she said.

"I'd like that," Jessica nodded. "I know Louis would, too."

Donna smiled and nodded once before following Harvey out the door.

Jessica watched as Harvey took Donna's hand and led her to the elevators. She smiled, he had it bad for the fiery red head.

* * *

The next morning he watched her form as she moved seamlessly around her kitchen, light on her feet as he figured any dancer is. He watched her feet and noticed the Roman numerals in the light. He had seen them last night but had other things on his mind. She looked graceful in the early morning light as she moved around his form. The only light coming in from the glass panels on one wall of her condo. Her hair was piled up in a messy bun, seemingly escaping the hair tie he watched her put in her hair after slipping on his button down and a pair of leggings. Since she stole his shirt he resorted to his undershirt and boxers as he sat on a barstool at the counter in her kitchen. The button down was rolled up to her forearms and he noticed the tattoos at her wrist. The feather covered her wrist from one side to the other in a slight diagonal direction, and two small ravens the size of a 25-cent piece were on the other wrist. Too entranced by her movements and trying to recall the symbolism of her tattoos, he barely noticed her sliding the cup across the counter to him a few minutes later.

"What is this?" He asked as he looked down. She had made a half attempt with drawing a leaf in the foam of his coffee. It looked rather sad which made his lips upturn slightly in amusement.

"I thought you of all people would recognise a cup of coffee," Donna said as she raised her eyebrows.

Harvey looked at the coffee and back up at her.

"It's not poisoned," she said. She sighed and reached across the counter, displaying the small raven tattoo to him as she took a small sip of it. The sad attempt at the leaf expanded and shifted with her sip. "See? It's even vanilla spice. Your favourite."

Harvey watched her for a moment, licking her lips and brushing a stray piece of hair that escaped her hair tie back from her face. She gave him a small smile before turning back to the coffee machine on the counter. As she had her back turned, he took a tentative sip of the coffee. His face morphed into surprise behind the tassé of coffee.

"Surprised I know how to make a good cup of coffee?" Donna asked as she watched his reflection in the stainless steel of the complicated coffee contraption.

"I'm wondering what other talents you possess, actually," Harvey said. "And whether or not I should steal you from NYU to be my assistant."

"A glorified coffee maker or a professor," Donna said as she turned around to face him. She leaned against the counter and shook her head. "Despite my hatred for the bureaucracy of the secondary education system, I do love my job."

"You like teaching all those kids with fragile egos?" Harvey asked.

"My hotness on ratemyprofessor is a 4 out of 4," Donna smirked.

"Your overall is a 2 out of 4," Harvey pointed out.

"I only teach the best. If they can't handle me how are they supposed to make it past auditions?" Donna shrugged.

"Sometimes I think you're the artistic, female version of myself," Harvey said as he took a sip of his coffee again.

"Or are you the stuffy suit and tie version of me?" Donna said as she waved the ground coffee at him.

"Touché," he smirked.

Donna gave him a small laugh before turning to make her own coffee. When she finished she hopped up on the barstool next to him and turned to face him. Her feet shifted to his lap as he watched her and she hid a smile behind her own tassé.

He traced the Roman numerals on her feet, and she looked down as he studied the date.

"Your dad?" he asked.

She nodded.

"The feather and the ravens, too," she said quietly. "And the coffee shop."

"The what?" Harvey asked.

"Le Chat? I own it," she said.

"That's why the coffee tastes the same," he realised.

She nodded.

"Why  _The Cat_?" He asked.

She laughed and set her tassé down on the counter.

"The only thing I wanted but never got was a cat. Cats weren't very productive on a farm so I got a horse instead. My dad said when I was older I could get a cat but under his house I had to be happy with the horse," Donna shrugged.

"I can't have a real cat since I'm at work 60 to 80 hours a week. So, a coffee shop worked. But if I called it  _The Cat_  it sounds like some kind of whore house. So, Le Chat."

Harvey couldn't help but laugh and laughed harder as her brows furrowed.

"When Louis first introduced me to your coffee shop that was the first thing that went through my mind," Harvey said.

She shook her head and joined in the laughter.

"By the way, Jessica said to tell you that you get a half day at work," Donna told him.

"Really?" he said as he perked up.

"Mmh, hmm," she nodded. "A birthday present."

"She remembered?" he asked.

"I have a feeling she never forgets," she told him.

He watched her as she smiled at him.

"Happy birthday, Harvey," she said quietly.

She suppressed a shiver as his finger trailed up from her foot to her leg and up to her thigh. She set the coffee down before it shattered and abandoned her own barstool in favour of his lap. Her arms moved around his shoulders and her hands entwined with each other as she leaned in closer to him.

His fingers slid along her hips, fingers brushing against soft skin and thin lycra at the same time. As his fingers found the curve of her waist he tightened his grip and tilted his head just as she looked up. She tasted of coffee and chocolate, two flavours quickly becoming as addictive as winning his cases. When every crevice had been explored, every taste mapped and memorised he broke to the surface again and watched as she smiled. She always seemed to bite her lip which made him want her more.

"Bedroom?" she asked.

He nodded and stood up with her still wrapped around him. Her arms tightened around his neck and her legs wrapped tight around his waist as he easily carried her seemingly weightless form back to her bed.

~z~

Her fingers ran through his bed mused hair and she smiled as he leaned into to touch. He lay propped on his stomach, his upper body resting on a mound of pillows as she lay beside him on her back. His button-down covered her form as she wore it backwards. Wearing it was a loose definition. He had draped it over her after getting distracted one too many times as he tried to make conversation.

"When do you have time to manage the coffee shop?" he asked. His finger traced the feather's lines marked into her skin as she shifted her head on the pillow to look up at him. Her hair made a halo of red locks on top of the crisp, pristine, white pillow case.

"The business school graduates at NYU oversee the operations and expense for their internship practice. I just own the place and occasionally make new things for them to put on the menu," she said.

"Ever think of becoming an entrepreneur?" he asked with a laugh.

She shrugged her shoulders and watched as he studied her. The morning light seeped through the curtains and lit up the room. It cast shadows on his face that defined his angled features. He looked younger in the mix of shadows and mid-morning sun.

"Why me?" he asked. Echoing her sentiments from weeks ago, he wanted to know why she had chosen him of all people to attach herself to him so freely and easily.

"You're the first person who didn't mind a little puzzle to solve. And when you figured it out you became more intrigued as opposed to running in the opposite direction," she told him. She bit her lip and waited for it to sink in. "You ran after me when I tried to skip out. No one has been interested in Donna Paulsen the person, expect you."

His hand made its way to her cheek and cupped it gently. Leaning down he pressed his lips to hers gently. He wasn't good with emotions but somehow felt the need to express them wordlessly with this woman. Somehow between their first meeting and now she became more than just a simple conquest, wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am. As he pulled back and watched her smile bloom and her eyes open slowly, blinking rapidly to adjust to his closeness, he gave her a genuine smile.

"You should probably shower," she whispered and countered her suggestion by using her legs to pull him closer. She was surprisingly strong, but he reminded himself she was still dancing as many hours as he was in meetings every week.

"You're giving me mixed signals," he said as he dipped his head low and buried it in the crook of her neck. She smelled of coffee and vanilla and tasted the same as his lips touched her neck. A hint of tangy salt mixed well with the coffee and vanilla. Her deep, quiet laugh only spurned him on to continue what he was doing as opposed to getting up and taking a shower.

"Harvey," she said quietly.

His  _hmm_  was muffled by her skin as he edged himself lower.

"I have work, and you have work," she sighed as he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

"And?" he asked.

"I'll make you a deal," she tried.

"I'm listening," he told her.

"Shower now, and I promise I'll make it worth your while later," she promised.

"Bribery already?" he laughed and lifted himself up to look her in the eyes.

"Your boss is going to think I'm a bad influence if you're late on your half day," she said.

"Fine," he sighed.

She smiled at his pout and lifted her head up to kiss him quickly before slipping out from underneath him.

"Removing the temptation," she said as she took his button down and put it back on as she circled the bed. "I'll make you some breakfast."

"Ray is going to drop off a suit," Harvey said as he fished out his Blackberry from her nightstand.

"I'll make sure to put some pants on", Donna said as she watched him most likely text his driver before heading out the door of her bedroom.

* * *

"What is in this?" He asked as he speared another piece of the frittata she had made in the time it took him to shower. He was thankful she had gender-neutral smells in her shower. He could take smelling like a hint of lemons.

"Vegetables, eggs, and cheese," she smirked as she ate her own.

"Smart ass, I can see that," Harvey shook his head.

"Onions, spinach, peppers," Donna said.

"You could make millions as a chef," he said. "Maybe you should become a chef, professor, coffee maker."

"Millions?" she asked skeptically.

"I know people who would pay you millions for stuff like this every day," he nodded.

"Including you?" she wondered.

"I would," he nodded.

She grinned.

"Luckily for you, you don't have to pay for my services," she said as she too his plate from him. "Get dressed."

"Bossy," he said as he got up from the barstool.

"Dress, work, our deal. I'll even make some cake for your birthday," she said as a motivator.

He raised an eyebrow and smirked as he purposefully brushed himself against her as he left. He heard the dishes hit the sink louder than necessary. He laughed to himself: mission accomplished.

He was dressed in a spare suit he always had Ray carry in the car. She watched his form in the mirror as he tied his tie in a knot.

"You doing anything later besides making me cake?" he asked.

"This afternoon I promised my students I'd be at Le Chat for their intro paragraph help. They promised not to stand me up. You?" she asked.

He turned to face her and held out his hands in question.

"You pass inspection," she nodded.

"Two negotiations and a merger," he said.

"Break a leg," she said quietly as he walked over to where she leaned in the doorway.

"Break a leg?" He asked with a small chuckle.

"Well, you seem like the type to not need luck so break a leg works as a motivating sentiment," she shrugged.

Sometimes he wondered how she knew him so well.

"See you later?" he asked.

"It's a deal," she nodded.


	2. Chapter 2

His favourite days became Saturdays. Before he met her, he was indifferent about the days of the week. Rather than enjoying the days, he would work 16-18 hour stretches a day, his career consuming most of the day away. He didn't mind so much. After all, he enjoyed the job. He enjoyed litigation, the argument, twisting the little truths into important truths, catching the other side trying to make it about feelings over facts. Then he met her and his favourite day became Wednesday. When they became serious, he asked her to dinner at the fanciest restaurants to wine and dined her to her heart's content. He liked the fact she'd dress up for him, just like she liked the fact he dressed up for her. After all, he noticed her appreciative smile when he showed up at her door with flowers in one hand and his best suit on. But he found they were both far more content in her little coffee shop on Wednesday afternoons between her classes. They'd sit in the back corner: her with a coffee and a pastry, him with just a coffee. Sometimes they would talk, sometimes he'd stare at his favourite poster, listen to her pen scratch at the papers she was grading, and her presence next to him would have its calming effect. He was sure Jessica Pearson's favourite day was Wednesday after 3 pm.

But as the days and months went on he found Saturdays became his favourite days of the week. They had a routine that began Friday. If he didn't have a case in court, she was the one to meet him at his office. Jessica had given her a permanent badge to keep her from having to sign in each time-it saved a lot of hassle and paperwork on both sides. They'd grab dinner, whatever struck her palate at the time, and take it back to his place. They'd dress down instead of dressing up, and he found he liked this better. Although nothing really beat Donna Paulsen in a little black dress, he'd rather be comfortable in her presence. Saturday morning would often come too soon, but he'd always wake up before her. He figured it was getting up at five o'clock in the morning that was ingrained into his internal alarm. His memory foam mattress made it easy to be quiet as he turned to face her. His fingers brushed across her arm as it lay exposed to him between them. Her fingers would twitch, but that would be the most he got out of her for a few hours unless he took dramatic steps to awaken her. More often than not, he'd let her sleep and catch up on the hours she missed during the week. Despite his constant mocking (she dished it right back) she did have the harder career out of the two of them. He could barely work with one associate, he didn't know how she remembered the hundreds of students she had every semester.

He didn't think too much about it at first. There was an extra toothbrush in the drawer, a bottle of her contact solution was under the sink, a container of hand lotion on "her" nightstand, and he noticed the purple razor in his shower this morning. Some of her clothes, the less formal, weekend clothes, were in his closet and hanging next to his. Somehow a few of her things ended up in his wash last night when he finally got around to doing his wash. This morning when he put it away, he started to put her things in the drawers alongside his things and then turned to get his shoes. He couldn't help the small smile that graced his lips as he found her favourite pair of heels standing next to his rows of dress shoes. And that was only his bedroom.

When he walked his condo that morning, there was more evidence: flowers he bought her last week still stuck in their vase at the centre of his table he rarely used, her espresso machine was where he had kept his small French press once upon a time. The change wasn't overwhelming as he expected it to be. It felt like a natural progression. There wasn't too much to overwhelm him, and it spoke volumes that she was comfortable enough to leave her things there. Then again, she stayed the night more often than she went to her own place. He wasn't a numbers wizard like Louis but four out of seven days of the week did add up to a little more than half. He briefly wondered if her condo was the same with a few of his clothes and things at her place. Of course, they spent more time at his, but they still went over to hers on the nights she had to be at her office earlier than he did. And sometimes on those three days she wasn't here at his place, they'd have alone time and in his case, their unspoken, permanent meeting at 3 pm was something he looked forward to.

After a week of not seeing her, he missed her. He'd found the occasional three days a lot easier to deal with because he at least saw her on those days. With her out of town and on the other side of the country they were limited to texts and phone calls. The conference in Los Angeles was probably fun for her, but it hampered his plans of seeing her every day. She should be back this morning, if all went as planned and her flight wasn't delayed. She did say she still had to teach a class tonight, hence the first flight back from LAX. He shook his head as he poured his orange juice. The damn woman was making him into one of those romantic people that actually missed people when they were gone. She made him almost human, as Jessica liked to call him this past year.

~s~

He rubbed his fingers against his temple and sighed as he flipped through the case file. There was nothing new he hadn't already memorized. Nothing was getting done: the associates and paralegals were getting on his nerves, and even his own associate stayed out of his way. The basketballs were calling to him. He always did feel a connection to his basketballs whenever he needed to think long and hard about a situation. He was surprised by the gentle tap on the closed glass door. He had sent his secretary away hours ago. He couldn't deal with her crying all over his messages and briefs because he was getting frustrated and sent her home. After all, he didn't expect calls or visitors tonight. As he turned to grumble at his "me" time being interrupted, he stopped and waved her in.

He watched as she walked in. Her attire was different. She was dressed in a white button-down with small, black buttons, tucked into a black pencil skirt, and a matching black blazer over the white shirt. Her heels were simple-not too short yet not outrageously tall in height- and black, and her hair was wavy-curled, like from a curling iron, rather than its usual, natural curls. It was strange to see her so dressed up and formal. Although she had changed to a little more fancy clothing when she made full professor at the start of spring semester six months ago, she still usually only has her formal wear on when she had a meeting with the other deans. After a year of dating, he was sure he had only seen her this formal maybe a handful of times.

"I thought you were teaching," he said. It was Tuesday; the long day where she had class until 10 pm. After all, it was the only reason why she came back from Los Angeles today. Sometimes he'd stay and do paperwork until 9:50, tell Ray to drive over to Tisch, and pick her up. Sometimes she'd stay at his place, and if it was a Thursday, he knew she'd be more inclined. Tuesdays depended on her mood when she got out of her class. The mood, however, never stopped her from taking his hand and shifting closer to his side in the car. After almost a week of not seeing her, he realized he missed her presence and the brief texts they sent each other this week wouldn't have tided him over until he saw her again.

"It seems Doctor Paulsen contracted some sort of 24-hour flu. A last-minute thing. Probably bad Chinese food over the flu. You know how some of those take out places can be in Los Angeles. You never know what you're actually getting," Donna said as she entered the office.

He placed the Kobe Bryant basketball on the stand and turned to face her rather than the view. She came up to his side and looked out the window anyway. Her fingers brushed alongside his in greeting. She was aware he didn't like to have public displays in the office. She didn't care for it either. So, she resorted to touching fingers not so accidentally. The surprise on her face couldn't be masked when he slipped his hand into hers.

"I'm full of surprises, too," he said as he looked down at her when she tilted her head to look at him. The small smile that graced her lips was worth it to him.

"I'm surprising?" she asked as she looked back to the city.

"Cancelling classes on a whim? It's a bit surprising," Harvey nodded.

"I'm sure my students are thrilled they get away from me for another week. They'll have more time to practice their routine for their final dance next week," she told him. "And I just flew across the country this morning, I'm beat. Speaking of work, what are you doing?"

"Were we speaking of work?" Harvey asked.

"I know you lawyer types think anything without arguments and paperwork isn't actual work, but my students could give courtroom dramatics a run for their money. And I didn't go to Los Angeles for fun. I did have to present a paper there and attend lectures. This whole full professor thing is a lot of work," Donna told him.

"You do know actual court is nothing like  _Judge Joe Brown_  and any of the  _Law and Orders_ , right?" Harvey asked.

"Of course," Donna nodded. "I once fell asleep during jury selection. Safe to say they didn't pick me."

Harvey gave her a genuine laugh, and she smiled and shook her head.

"They should have known better than to have a 6:00 am start when I get home at 11:00 pm on a good night," she told him.

"I was working on a case that's getting me nowhere," Harvey said as he answered her original question.

"So, you're free? Need some time away from the case before you look into it again?" she asked.

"What did you have in mind?" he wondered.

"Not that," she said as she released his hand and half-heartedly slapped him on his stomach. "At least not yet. I was saving that for tonight."

"You were going to come over?" he asked.

"I do remember someone stealing my espresso machine last time they were over because I was going to be out of town for the week. Scones aren't the same without an espresso in the morning," Donna told him.

"Well, you are the expert on this. Since you are the one with a coffee shop," Harvey conceded.

"I was going to try this new cookie recipe and make a new scone flavour. I need a test subject," Donna shrugged.

"Cookies?" he asked. She knew he had a weakness for them. Especially right out of the oven.

"I was looking for a baking assistant. Know anyone around?" she smirked.

"I may know of someone," he nodded. "Let me pack this up, and we can leave."

She nodded and told him she'd wait at the desk outside his office. He nodded and waved her off, his mind already gathering up his thoughts along with his actual case file.

"You look like you belong there," he said a few minutes later.

She spun around in the chair and raised an eyebrow.

"Still trying to make me quit my day job?" she asked as she stood.

"As long as your day job isn't the one that keeps  _the cat_  open," Harvey said. He frowned. "Wow, that came out dirtier than I expected."

Donna was silently laughing and bit her lip in order to keep the bubble of laughter from spilling over to a louder laugh.

"Maybe in another life I was your secretary," she shrugged.

"I think I like this one better," he told her.

"Really?" she wondered. "You tell me all the time I'd make a good partner for you. You wouldn't want me to work with you?"

"I don't know. I think we'd work fine together. But unlike that reality, we don't have to worry about office politics because we don't work together professionally," he said.

"Did you just go sci-fi on me with the alternate reality speak?" Donna asked.

"I did," he nodded.

"We should definitely have a  _Star Trek_  marathon while baking this stuff," Donna said.

"I knew there was a reason I kept you around," Harvey told her.

"Baking and understanding your science fiction references," Donna nodded. "Just like I keep you around so I can get into all the fancy dinner places without a reservation."

"Glad we can use and abuse each other with respect," Harvey noted.

"Of course," Donna smirked.

He led her out of the hallways, one step ahead of her as they made their way to the elevator doors. Harvey missed Jessica stepping to her office door, but Donna caught the woman's eye. They both shared a nod and Donna gave her a brief wave before stepping into the elevator.

Jessica was glad Donna's number was on the web. She didn't know if she could have handled another one of Harvey's outbursts. She already had to calm him down after he made two new paralegals cry and his secretary practically ran out of the building at lunch. When Donna consented to get Harvey to unwind with her, she was never more appreciative of the woman. She just hoped tomorrow Harvey would be back in better spirits. Maybe she should tell NYU not to schedule Donna for out of town conferences anymore.

~s~

"Don't roll it too hard," Donna said as she looked over at him.

His suit jacket and tie were long forgotten. His shirt sleeves were rolled up and his shirt was unbuttoned twice. He looked relaxed, more relaxed than when they had come to his place an hour ago. He was actually smiling, genuinely, in the corner of his lips. Safe to say, she was pretty proud of her idea.

When Jessica had called her and given her the basics of what was happening, there wasn't any hint of regret when she sent out a mass email and informed her assistant she was suddenly too sick for classes. Today had been a long day-with more travelling and rushing to the gates in the airports than with students. She had been semi-productive with her research and presentation at the conference but found herself texting Harvey more than she usually would on any other week.

"That looks gross," he said as he watched her chop things on the cutting board. He didn't even know he had this many utensils for baking.

"Not a fan of pistachios?" She asked with a sideways glance towards him.

"Never had one," he shrugged.

"You can't say it's gross until you've tried it. Pistachios are the nuts of royalty," she told him.

"Are you a royal?" He wondered.

"I could be," she shrugged.

He scoffed and looked at her.

"This good?" He asked as he tilted his head towards his own counter space.

She nodded and passed him a pastry brush and melted butter with orange zest.

"Cut those into triangles. I assume you know what a triangle looks like. Brush that over them when they're on the baking sheet," Donna instructed as she nodded to the baking sheet she had placed in front of him before they began.

"You're lippy tonight," he smirked.

"Just for you," she said.

She watched as he cut the triangles perfectly. He was a perfectionist. She was sure that he was mentally calculating each perfect square and then perfect triangle.

"If you keep watching me I'll end up cutting myself," Harvey said.

"Performance anxiety?" She quipped.

"Never heard you complain," he countered.

She snorted and turned back to her cutting board. She wasn't going to feed his ego any more than she already had. When she finished the pistachios she moved onto making the butterscotch.

"Seriously, what kind of cookie are you making?" Harvey asked.

"Butterscotch chocolate chip pistachio," she said as she crossed behind him to the stove.

Unlike him, she hadn't shed her blazer or rolled up her sleeves. The only thing she had done was undone the buttons that made the shirt conservative. The single button had made a difference, since she found when he wasn't mixing ingredients, he was staring at her. She didn't draw his attention to it, but she was getting curious.

"You going to take off your jacket? Stay awhile?" he asked.

"What?" she asked without turning around.

"You're formal and its weird," Harvey said. He set his work aside and she turned as he stepped closer.

"I had to get my official picture for NYU taken today," she shrugged. "You know, since they're now updating their website all professors had to get their picture taken."

Harvey nodded. He tugged at her blazer and she relented, shrugging her shoulders gingerly to help him remove the first layer. He paused when he saw the white button down was a little sheerer than he thought. He frowned as he noticed a patch of gauze and wrap at her left shoulder.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Just let it go," she shook her head.

"Are you okay?" Harvey asked seriously. He gave her a once over and she nodded.

"I'm perfectly fine, Harvey. Seriously," she told him. "Just forget it. Go back to making the scones."

He paused as if he was cross-examining her but nodded and turned back to the scones. He still kept an eye on her as she made the butterscotch. She bit her lip and ignored his stare. He'd find out soon enough.

~s~

They were on the couch waiting for the scones and cookies as he told her about his case. He didn't divulge any names but he wondered if there was something he was missing that she might pick up on. She had a different thought process than he did, the artist versus the rational, analytical mind. Maybe he just needed a different perspective. She had finally rolled up her sleeves on her button down to match his attire. Her arm was resting on the back of the couch, her elbow on the edge as her head rested in her hand. She was smiling at him as her feet rested in his lap. His fingers were absentmindedly tracing her tattoo again. The back and forth motion was soothing to both him and her. He always seemed to do that when lost in thought, whether it was one of her wrists or the top of her foot.

"Sorry," he said as he looked down at his fingers. He removed them as he looked up and she shook her head.

"It's fine," she told him honestly. "It's a quirk you've adopted."

He looked down and traced the Roman numerals again.

"Do you miss him?" he asked.

"Sometimes," she nodded. She licked her lips and looked at him seriously. "Next week is seven years. When I was in LA, my mom called me and asked if I was going to come upstate. They're having a get together since we haven't all been together in five years."

"Are you..." Harvey asked quietly. "Are you going?"

She shrugged her shoulders. She knew he wanted to say something as the timer beeped. She slid her feet to the floor and heard him follow behind her as she made her way to the kitchen. Busying herself with getting the baking sheets out of both ovens, he waited on the other side of the counter patiently. Only when she finished moving the scones and cookies to the cooling rack did he speak.

"I'll go with you," he said. He watched her head lift and her eyes zeroed in on his. "If you want to go, I'll come with you. If you want."

Her fingers drummed on the counter and she bit her lip.

"Please?" she whispered.

Harvey gave her a nod if confirmation and a sad but hopeful smile crossed her face. She crossed the island counter and stood in front of him.

"Thank you," she said. She stood up on her tiptoes and her arms went around his shoulders, crossing at the base of his neck as she pulled herself into him. His arms wrapped around her in an automatic gesture. His hand went to the small of her back and he closed his eyes slowly. Maybe he'd have her come with him to visit his father this year. He would ask her later though. For now, he'd focus on her family reunion.

Unfortunately, before anything more was said, a knock sounded through his condo. He sighed and she shook her head as he made his way to the door. She could hear a younger man at the door and looked up a moment later when she felt eyes on her.

"Donna, this is puppy. Puppy, this is Donna," Harvey said. "I have to go read this."

"I can entertain myself," she said. "I've got stuff to finish making."

Harvey nodded once and moved away from the kitchen and into his office down the hall.

Instead of waiting awkwardly, she set about doing the task she had almost finished when they were interrupted.

"My name is Mike, by the way," Mike told her.

"I know," she said simply. She looked over at him before she started to scoop out her second batch of cookies.

She felt his gaze on her. It wasn't creepy or discomforting but it wasn't comforting either. She was indifferent to it. She glanced up every once in a while to find blue eyes watching her every move.

Jessica had warned him as he left that Harvey might not answer his door. Mike now realized why. She looked familiar, he thought to himself. Her eyes were a dark chocolate colour, her hair a dark auburn. She looked like one of those fine porcelain dolls you'd find at one of those expensive little shops in the upper-class side of the city. He could see that at least made her physically attractive to Harvey. Not that he knew his boss in an overly friendly way but he knew the woman he spent time with had to at least have some brains as well as beauty. He was sure his boss wouldn't be able to tolerate more than a date with a woman who was simply arm candy. And he had seen this woman now twice with his boss. Not to mention she looked quite comfortable in Harvey's kitchen. Which suggested this had been happening longer than he thought.

"What do they represent?" Mike asked out of the blue.

He had been watching her in favour of being with Harvey. He knew his boss liked a little peace and quiet when he was reading over a case file. So, he made his way to the kitchen in an effort to get to know the mysterious woman in his boss's kitchen.

"That's the first thing you want to ask me?" she asked with a smile as she looked down at her arms and the exposed tattoos. "Not what's my educational level, what I do or where I work? What's your boss's weakness?"

"Can you answer all those questions, too?" he asked with a small smile.

"I believe you're the one who pulled my thesis for Harvey to look at so you know my education level. But I have a BFA and MFA from Juilliard, Ph.D. from NYU. I'm a professor who works at NYU. I teach graduate dance and undergrad theatre. I guess now I'm the running for the Dean of Graduate Dance at Tisch. Don't ask me how that's going because I don't even know what I'm doing half the time," Donna began. "And as for Harvey's weaknesses, I think I'll keep those to myself."

"What about the tattoos?" Mike wondered. He noticed her left arm was covered. Her shirt was sheer enough at the arms to see it was a full sleeve of tattoos. He briefly wondered if she had more.

"I think we should probably know each other better before I tell you about those," she said as she leaned over and mock-whispered to him.

"Can you at least tell me how long you've been dating him?" Mike asked.

"A year and a half in two days," she said.

"A year and a half?" Mike asked with a slightly incredulous tone.

"We like to keep it private," she shrugged.

"How come everyone else knows about you?" Mike asked.

"It's just Rachel, Louis, and Jessica. I'd hardly call that everyone," she said. "They know me from my past."

"Your past?" Mike asked. "You some kind of former lawyer?"

"A lawyer without a law degree, that would be something. Dancer," she said simply. When his eyebrows lifted in surprise, she shook her head. "Not that kind of dancer. Ballet."

"They all like the ballet," Mike concluded.

"Good for you, you can deduce facts," she teased.

She tilted her head and waited for more questions to come.

Mike watched as she scooped out the dough and placed it on a baking sheet.

"What are you making?" Mike asked.

"Is it natural all lawyers ask a lot of questions? You guys remind me of my two nephews," she asked him.

"I guess? I don't know many lawyers other than the ones I work with," Mike shrugged.

"When Harvey and I met each other he asked me questions before he even told me his name. So, it seems to be a reoccurring theme whenever I meet his coworkers," Donna said.

"Mike is not a coworker, he's an associate," Harvey said as he came back into the room.

Donna looked up at him and smirked.

"I shall make a mental note," she told him.

"Here, papers are signed so you can leave," Harvey said as he handed Mike the file. "Put it in motion and I'll see you tomorrow."

"She hasn't answered what she's making though," Mike stalled.

"Cookies," Harvey said. "If you leave now I'll bring you one tomorrow."

"Just one?" Mike whined.

"I'll make sure he brings a batch," Donna cut the two off. She sensed they'd probably banter for hours if allowed.

"Thank you, Donna," Mike smiled. "It was nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you," Donna nodded.

~s~

Later that night, they stood at the sinks in his bathroom. She just finished washing her face as he finished brushing his teeth. She was dressed in a tank top and sleep shorts, the night still a little warm for pajama pants and thicker shirts. She could feel his stare but chose to ignore it.

"You going to let me in on what that is?" He asked when he stepped closer.

She moved her hair to one shoulder, turning her back to him and looking over her shoulder at him.

He slid his fingers under the tape, careful not to catch anything on her sensitive skin. When he revealed what was underneath, he realized he didn't really know what he was expecting to find underneath. It was the size of his palm, he figured, as he traced it with his eyes.

"It's healed," she said. "You can touch it."

She knew him well enough to know he liked touching the ink. He did as she suggested, his fingers making a heart like shape as he traced the two figures.

"I did have to present a paper," she began. "But that was over Thursday. I could have flown back a few days ago but in truth, I was there for this. You know I've only ever been to one artist, my old friend from prep school who's like a brother I never had. He's usually here in New York but he's been in LA for a few months and I only want my tattoos done by him."

"When did you get this done?" he asked.

"Wednesday night, after I got off the phone with you. I was meeting him for dinner and he asked why I had a grin the size of Alaska on my face," she revealed.

When he stayed silent she continued.

"You didn't even realize what you said that night, did you?" she asked.

He thought back to last Wednesday and their conversation. He remembered he had called her after he and Mike had just found a loophole in the contract and because of that loophole the negotiations landed in their favour. He ran through their conversation and paused as he remembered his final words to her.

"I love you," he said quietly. He met her eyes in the reflection of the glass and watched her nod.

He had said it without thinking and the next day he had found his mind rolling over the fact he had said the words and meant them. For once he hadn't wanted to take them back. His fingers brushed alongside her skin as she moved to face him, his hand dropping.

"I don't want to force you into anything. I'm not good at feelings or showing people I care. I lost that part of me seven years ago. But I'm trying," she shrugged.

"You're not forcing me into anything," Harvey told her. He lifted her chin up and waited for her to look him in the eyes. "It wasn't an afterthought. I admit it did slip out but that doesn't mean I didn't mean it. You think I would have stayed with you if I didn't love you?"

She smiled and watched him carefully.

"Remember when you started to get your sleeve," he recalled. He exposed her inner arm and ran his fingers over the single word on her arm. "This was my favourite, until just now."

" _Liebe_  isn't the favourite anymore? Its feelings might get hurt," she told him.

"Why'd you get the two sparrows?" he asked. He traced the long tails entwined at her shoulder blade, moving his fingers across the shoulder towards her spine as the birds began to form from the tails.

"Sparrows are said to be the bird that always finds a home," she said. "I found that again for the first time since my dad died."

His fingers paused as he looked at her.

"You make me feel important, which is all I've ever wanted. You care about me, and you didn't run away that first time or any time since then," she told him.

Their eyes met in the mirror and she turned to face him rather than a reflection of him.

"I love you," she said. Her smile was sad and her fingers twisted against each other as she rocked on her feet. "Our lives aren't ideal or perfect but it is what it is and you made me fall in love you and I can't take it back now."

He slipped away and she turned to follow, leaning against the doorframe as he went to his nightstand drawer.

Their relationship was a series of back and forth firsts: he had asked her out first, but she was the one who kissed him first. He said he loves her first, she made a symbolic representation of it first. When he turned back to face her, he placed whatever he had taken out behind him as he walked towards her.

Her brow furrowed as he sank down to his knee in front of her.

"I had this whole thing planned out, you know. And then you started this and despite being in your pajamas, I'm making adjustments. For a long time, I thought I thought I had the whole package: the life, the career that people dream of with the fancy cars and the second house in the Hamptons, and the money to waste. And then you came along and then I realized I never really had the whole package. I had the career but I didn't have a life, not really. I never had a favourite day or never felt like skipping court just to watch someone lecture. I want it. I want the whole package. And I want it with you. So, marry me?"

The Tiffany Soleste was suddenly in her view as he held it pinched between his fingers. She nodded and bit her lip as he angled the band towards her. He paused, letting her catch the inscription and she smiled with a shake of her head. He placed the ring over her knuckles, the band gliding effortlessly onto her finger and when he centred the diamond, it fit perfectly.

"Yes," she confirmed.

He leaned over and gently presses his lips to hers, fingers catching her cheek and brushing softly. It's slow and lingering and different and it makes her feel a hundred different emotions. He pulls back and looks at her carefully, noticing the lingering smile on her face. He realizes he probably has the same look.

As she looks up, she swears he's got that look in his eye again, the one she can now identify. She tightens her hold on him and he effortlessly lifts her off the ground. She wraps her legs around his waist as he carries her the few steps to his bed and she giggles a little as he stares appreciatively at her for a moment longer than usual. She knew it was a good idea to actually bring the good, matching set of underwear for this occasion.

* * *

He traced the visual representation of her life, her roadmap, as they lay next to one another the next morning. Her arm wasn't underneath her body as she slept like she sometimes did when they had particularly sleepless nights. Instead, it was thrown above her head, exposing her inner arm to his scrutiny. It had taken a year for her roadmap to be complete. She had stories for each and every symbol but there were two he loved most: the word ' _liebe_ ' written in script on her inner forearm and the two sparrows on her shoulder blade. Her left arm was a map of what he knew, and he enjoyed looking at the visuals of her life. He had convinced her to do this, to get a full sleeve of tattoos on her left arm after she got the full professorship. Her right wrist still had the two ravens and her foot still had just the Roman numerals. When he wanted to know more, she kept adding on, claiming he was having her build a roadmap of her life. Each and every tattoo told a story, from the feather that was the first symbol of her dad after his death, to the shattered mirror and broken crown on her inner upper arm as a representation of what her mother's image of her is, compared to her own. The ' _liebe_ ' tattoo is one of a few of her written forms of expression, the rest symbols. However, the written word matched what she believed love was: liberating.

One day, out of the blue, she had asked him how their international conferences went, since he was going to London. He remembered her sitting next to his suitcase, curling his ties with precision and stowing them in their little tie bag before organizing his suitcase he just threw together. He had told her that most of the partners had to be able to speak another language: he spoke German, Jessica spoke Spanish, and Louis spoke French. He had also added Rachel spoke French and Spanish but they only used her when either Jessica or Louis was busy or in court. When he had asked her why, she had shrugged and told him she was trying to conduct a study on foreign language requirements and if she should become fluent in another since she made Dean. However, when he had come back from London she had the new tattoo pronouncing her love for him without actually saying the words outright. It was at that moment he knew neither of them could ever go back... they were absolutely stuck with each other for the rest of their lives. And it had only taken him months later to figure out how to say the actual words to her.

He traced the line of cherry blossoms on her arm before looking back at the clock. He sighed and slowly got out of bed, heading for the shower.

When he finished in the shower and was half dressed in his suit-his shirt and pants were on-he found her sitting up on one of the barstools in the kitchen. She had a cup of coffee at her elbow as she flipped pages in the paper, a scone in her other hand.

"Morning," he greeted as he came up behind her.

"Morning," she greeted as she leaned back against him. She placed her scone down beside her coffee and looked up at him. "Need me to make you one?"

"Please," he nodded.

She got up off her stool, brushing by him and smirking as he huffed at her.

He took her seat, watching as she stood in his kitchen, in his Harvard sweatshirt and her running capris. He watched her, noticing Louis was right: the diamond ring was perfectly designed for her hand. Louis had told him at the year point was when you started making decisions about your life and not so subtly began sending him ads of engagement rings with post-it notes. He laughed to himself and as Donna set the latte in front of him, she frowned in confusion.

"Louis helped me pick that out by sending me ads of engagement rings," Harvey said. "It has only taken me six months to actually get it designed and come up with a plan. Not that I need it anymore."

Donna's brows rose and she tried to hide the smirk.

"I think I still have that ad in my inbox," he said as he nodded to her ring.

"Please bring it home," she told him.

He nodded and took a sip of his latte. As he drank the vanilla spice mixture, he really didn't want her to leave again for so long. No one knew how to make a vanilla spice latte like her.

"No regrets?" she asked. She slid a scone towards him and took hers from its place in front of him.

"No," he said quickly and surely.

"Just making sure," Donna said.

"You?" he asked.

"Never," she said. She looked him in the eye and smiled genuinely.

"So, what was your plan?" Donna asked as he bit into his scone.

"What?" he asked.

"Your plan? You know? Were you going to take me to a fancy place, wine and dine me, make me swoon? Place the ring in champagne or in my dessert?" Donna laughed.

"I think you need to stop watching Lifetime," he told her.

"What? You don't think its romantic? Potentially choking on a ring as you eat or swallow?" she smirked.

"I find performing the heimlich a great start to any relationship," he noted sarcastically.

Donna shook her head and laughed. She turned her back to him and packed some of her cookies in a tupperware container, since she promised Harvey's associate he'd bring some this morning.

"Make sure you share," she said when she turned back to him and found him finished with his scone and reading the paper with one hand, his latte in the other.

"Okay," he nodded distractedly.

"I'll call Jessica or Louis just to make sure, you know," she said.

"I promise to share," he said as he looked over at her.

"Good," she nodded. "I'm going to go for a run."

~s~

Harvey arrived at the firm in much better spirits. Jessica noticed and leaned against his office doorway as she crossed her arms.

"You figure out your case?" Jessica asked.

"Almost," Harvey said as he looked up briefly.

Jessica walked into his office and he paused in his typing as he felt her stare.

"Did you need something?" Harvey asked.

"It's Wednesday and its almost 3. Yet you're not jumping out of your chair and heading to Le Chat," Jessica said.

"Are you taking advantage of my schedule?" Harvey asked. "I do like to switch it up and still be unpredictable."

"You're getting predictable, Harvey," Jessica noted.

"Predictable?" Harvey scoffed.

Jessica studied him and gave him a knowing look.

"What happened last night?" she asked.

"Donna and I made cookies," Harvey said. He nodded to the tupperware container at the edge of his desk. He was sharing, kind of. He had given Mike half a cookie, when he was finished with the brief he could eat his other half.

"Something's different," Jessica noted.

"Nothing is different," Harvey tried.

"Bullshit," Jessica noted. "Am I going to have to call her?"

Harvey leaned into his inbox and leafed through his papers, pulling out the ad he promised Donna he would bring home. He turned it towards Jessica and she studied it along with Louis's note.

"Holy shit," she whispered.

Harvey smiled and she looked at him carefully.

"Congratulations," Jessica said proudly.

"Congratulations?" Mike asked as he walked in unannounced.

Harvey slid a stack of folders over the ad and looked to his associate as Jessica turned to face the younger man.

"I heard there was a break in your case and you're close to solving the contract problem," Jessica said.

"I have the financials you wanted," Mike said as he stepped carefully around Jessica and handed Harvey a stack of papers. Harvey reluctantly handed over the other half of the cookie, watching Jessica smirk. Mike nodded at both parties before exiting.

Jessica turned and was about to leave herself when she stopped as Harvey called her name.

"I know you called her," Harvey said. "Thank you."

"You going to bring your fiancée to dinner then?" Jessica asked.

"If I get next Friday and Monday off," Harvey tried.

"What's happening?" Jessica asked. He never asked for days off.

"Donna's going back home and I'm going with her," Harvey said quietly.

"Okay," Jessica nodded.

"She's making me share my cookies," Harvey finished as he looked to the tupperware once again.

Jessica looked down and took the tupperware from his desk.

"Payment for covering your ass with your associate," she shrugged as he called out after her.

~s~

She poked her head in through the hallway and watched him as he looked up from the couch.

"Leaving your door unlocked? Aren't you afraid some crazy person is going to come in and rob you?" she asked with a playful amusement colouring her words.

"Not if I was expecting the crazy person," Harvey said as he turned back to whatever he was doing. He heard Donna's footsteps go back to his room and he watched as she shed her coat and her bag. He heard his taps running moments later and wondered what exactly she was doing. But he found his laziness was more of a hinder than a help and he'd just have to wait until she came back. He focused intently on the papers as she came back into the living room.

"If you're going to pretend to do paperwork you should have an actual light on," she said as she sat on the couch next to him. She smelled like mint and grapefruit, meaning she had brushed her teeth and washed off her makeup. Her hair was up in a messy bun, already like that from her class, and her dance outfit of the day was loose on her frame.

"I wasn't actually doing paperwork," he said as he motioned to the papers in his lap.

Her feet stretched out and knocked against his as she set them up on the ottoman. She leaned against his side rather than the edge of the couch and she let out a deep breath.

"How was your day?" she asked as she adjusted herself around him. She took one of his arms and wrapped hers around it, her palm resting lightly in his.

"Fine," he said. "I figured the case out."

"So, yesterday helped?" she asked.

"Yesterday helped," he admitted reluctantly.

"See, you should play hooky more often. It might be fun," she said as she turned her head upwards to look at him.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," he said. "How was yours?"

"Fine," she echoed.

"Not going to elaborate?" he asked.

"No, too tired," she said simply.

He turned and found her with her eyes closed. The program on the tv highlighted the wariness of her schedule this week. He was tempted to tell her to go home and sleep since he had to be up early but a bigger part of him enjoyed she'd rather stay here than go home. He supposed they would eventually have to have the whole move in or find a new place discussion sooner rather than later.

"Hey, Donna," he said quietly.

She answered with an indistinguishable noise but he took it to mean he should go on.

"Did you bring clothes over?" he asked.

"My bag," she said softly.

"Bedtime?" he teased as she opened an eye.

"I'm fine right here," she told him as she burrowed into his side.

"And when the temperature starts to drop, because I have a condo made of glass, you're going to turn into a popsicle. I can handle your fingers and toes but I'm not going to try and explain a frozen professor on my couch to your students," Harvey told her.

She sighed and started to move. As she loosened the grip around him, he tightened his own. He moved to stand and easily picked her up into his arms. She looped her arms around his neck as he adjusted to her weight and her light laugh was music to his ears.

"If you drop me or break a bone I will sue you," she said. "My feet are worth millions you know."

"My very own Vanna White," Harvey said with a laugh as he began to make his way towards his bedroom.

"Her? Please. I'm worth more than her," Donna said.

Harvey deposited her on the bed, watching as she tossed pillows in the corner of the room.

"I got next Friday and Monday off," he told her.

"Jessica told me," Donna said.

"She called you?" Harvey asked.

"Came to see me, actually," Donna told him. "Wanted to see the ring in person. Said you did really good."

Harvey smirked and watched as she placed herself in the middle of the bed.

"You need to finish work?" she asked.

"It can wait until morning," he said. He had wanted to complete it but the bed with her in it looked too inviting to pass up.

Her smile was worth it.

* * *

Fridays were usually days they didn't see each other until late when she came to his office. But he had court just around the corner and stopped by with hands full of things he no longer needed. He was stopped by one of her students, the one that knew him from the coffee shop, and she helped relieve him of some items. She shooed him off and told him she'd put the lunch in the fridge if he was able to get the roses to her office before she came down the hallway from her first class. He accepted the challenge.

The lavender roses sat in a vase in the middle of her desk as she opened her door to her office. A shuffle from the corner hidden by the awkward angle of her office revealed the break-in suspect she had already suspected.

"This is surprising," she said. She walked in and closed the door to her office. She tossed her bag next to her bookshelf and leaned her head from side to side releasing the built up pressure.

"This was already in motion for the surprise I gave you two days ago," he told her. "Figured I could still bring them anyway."

"How long do you have left of your break?" she asked knowingly. He had texted her just before her class started that he'd be in court. She had replied with a 'you already know my daily schedule.' It looks like he knew it well. And also made friends with the custodian or her assistant, to unlock her door. She'd put money on either person at this point. He was damn charming when he needed something.

"10 minutes," he said.

She gave a nod and sat down in her chair. She brought the vase closer and inhaled the sweet scent of the fresh cut roses.

"Are we going to make a new occasion then?" she asked.

"Does there need to be?" he countered.

"With you, yes," she smirked.

"I guess I could celebrate the fact you now have a picture on the NYU website," he shrugged with a smirk.

"How the hell do you know these things?" she asked. She didn't deny it.

"I'm on one of the Board of Governors for NYU," he told her. "And I've been checking every day."

"I just found out this morning it was up there," she told him.

"I was bored at work," Harvey shrugged.

She laughed and shook her head, biting her lip as she tilted her head. She looked down at her hands and fingered her new engagement ring. Sometimes it still felt it was all a dream or some alternate reality. She was never supposed to end up this happy.

"You kept that secret this whole time," she nodded to herself.

"I can keep a secret when I want to," Harvey told her.

"Which is totally what you did when I said I wanted to get to know Rachel in your office and the next day you were playing bff matchmaker," Donna looked pointedly at him.

"And you're now not only friends with Rachel but also Jessica. Now that I think about it, I don't know whether or not that was a good idea," he said pretending to think out loud.

"If you didn't bring me flowers I may have just called you an asshole right now," she told him.

"Good thing I brought the flowers," Harvey said as he glanced at his watch. "I should go."

She watched as he came out from his corner and rounded her desk. She moved her chair to follow his movements.

"Be good," he said with a smile.

A smile bloomed on her lips and he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss was quick but lingered at the same time. His fingers brushed her chin as he righted himself again.

"Love you, too," she teased.

Harvey gave her one last look and paused as he opened the door, turning back to her. She silently asked her question.

"I hear there's some lunch for you in your fridge professors have to share. Can't miss it from what the gossip says," Harvey turned the doorknob before anything further was said. He did give her a smirk as he shut the door again, lifting a few fingers in a wave before he disappeared from her sight.

Before she could get up and investigate a student tapped on her door. She gave a quiet sigh and waved her hand for him to come in.

* * *

The next week, she had a meeting with her former boss. Her boss had done well for herself, having a nice view on the Upper East Side was a perk few professors got the chance to see unless they married rich. Donna was sipping her tea and looked out the window, noticing a for sale sign in the window of a top floor of a building a few blocks away. Her boss caught her gaze and began to tell a story. The Upper East Side isn't known for having neighbours who are quiet and respectful of one's privacy if someone loses their condo to foreclosure.

Maybe she called Jessica to ask if Harvey had a free night. And just maybe she called the realtor to look. They hadn't really talked about it but maybe if they were shown a place, he'd be more open to it. She took a stab in the dark and it looks like it had paid off. She stood arm and arm with him on the edge of the balcony as they watched the sunset.

"The view is gorgeous," she said.

He looked around at the glowing sun, highlighting the orange in her hair. It was worth it just for the moment they were having right now.

"How much is it?" he asked as he watched her look up at him.

"7.4," she said. She turned her head over her shoulder and watched the relator futz with something inside.

"Does he take the black card?" Harvey joked.

"I'm sure he's seen at least one in his career," Donna noted.

Harvey turned from the view and leaned against the edge of the railing. She stepped into the space between his legs and placed her hand on either side of his hips.

"So?" she hummed.

"I like it," he nodded.

"But?" she asked.

"It's a little far for you, isn't it?" he wondered.

"You're concerned with little ol' me?" she teased. She smiled softly. "I'll just have to wake up early, I guess."

"That's commitment," he teased. She never got up early unless she absolutely had to. Even then it was somewhat difficult.

"It's a sacrifice for you," she smirked.

"I love it," he nodded. "We should get it."

"Half and half?" she asked.

"Okay," he nodded.

"Cash or check?" she wondered.

"Cash," they both answered at the same time.

"We're really doing this," she noted quietly.

"Too much?" he asked.

"Nope," she answered decisively. "You?"

"No," he shook his head.

It felt weird to be leaving his home he had known since he made junior partner. But the time was right. The little light he saw in her eyes as he agreed to come see the place was worth it. And she did have an eye for detail. He knew it was a bigger, more expensive version of his condo now: one with penthouse views and a private roof. She always could anticipate his needs. It was a quirk she adopted; one he loved no doubt. He placed her hand in his as he rose from his position on the balcony railing. They'd face this relator head on and get the best deal, with the city's best negotiator and the city's best smooth talker, the relator didn't stand a chance.

* * *

Harvey watched as she readied herself in the mirror, applying a dark red shade of lipstick to her lips as she leaned against the sink. He took in her dress, the one-shoulder dress showing off her toned arms and fit body as it flowed over her body. The emerald green darkened by the sheer black overlay, making the dress seem multiple colours at the same time. She looked beautiful, and it wasn't even for him.

"What?" She asked as she ran the stick from her bottom to her top lip.

Harvey shook his head and leaned heavier on the doorframe.

"Fridays are Louis days," Donna said as she placed the cap back on the lipstick. "You know that."

"But do you really have to dress up for him?" Harvey asked.

"We're going to the theatre. He has tickets for Macbeth with Daniel Day Lewis, front row," she said as she turned towards him. "Would you like to come?"

"God, no," he shook his head. "I only take Louis's tickets when we bet so I can watch him suffer."

She shook her head and walked towards him.

"You're a mean friend," she pointed out.

"Its how we show we care," he tried.

"Bullshit," she smiled softly.

"He likes to think I actually need Mike," Harvey shrugged. "What he should really bet is you."

"I'm not chattel or a token to be won at some fair," she said. Her voice carried a weepy tone.

"I know," he tried backing up on his word.

"It just," she trailed off. "It's like my soul hurts now."

She turned away from him and hid her face in her hands. She heard him come up behind her and smirked with her covered face as he gently touched her shoulder to turn her around.

"Donna," Harvey tried.

Donna gave a fake hysterical laugh as she uncovered her smirk. She raised her head and watched Harvey's teeth clench.

"I hate you," he shook his head.

"Mmhm," Donna nodded. "I got you."

The doorbell rang and Harvey shook his head.

"This isn't over," he told her as he turned away.

"Oh, I know," she nodded. "I know."

She checked herself in the mirror, fixing her hair yet again before shutting off the lights and making her way from the bathroom to the living room where Harvey and Louis stood just inside the kitchen area.

"Wow," Louis nodded.

Donna smirked at Harvey as Louis took her hand and kissed it briefly.

"You kids have fun," Harvey said.

"I'll have her home before midnight," Louis told him.

Harvey quirked an eyebrow and looked at his workmate.

"Does it look like I care what time she gets home?" Harvey asked. "You can have her if she turns into a pumpkin."

"You're the best," she smirked.

"I know," he nodded. He helped her with her shawl, making sure to cover her arms so she wouldn't get cold between the apartment door and the car.

He watched them walk away, Donna sauntering as she looked over her shoulder at him. He shook his head at her and sighed. It was going to be a long night of paperwork.

~s~

Donna looped her arm through Louis's, leading him away from the intermission area and towards the backstage area.

"Where are we going?" Louis asked.

Donna smiled and looked at him before looking over her shoulder.

"Can't a girl surprise her friend?" Donna asked.

"Normally I don't like surprises," Louis said.

"I'm sure you'll like this one," Donna smirked.

She led him through the curtains and waved to the security guard standing at the door to the backstage.

"Donna Paulsen," the man greeted.

"John," Donna smiled. She let go of Louis's arm and moved forward. She kissed the man's cheek and he took her hands in his.

"My dear, you look radiant," he smirked. "Looks like you're doing well for yourself."

"I am," she nodded and stepped back. "This is Louis Litt, a friend of mine. A fellow theatre nerd."

"Nice to meet you, Louis," John said. He stepped up and both men shook hands.

"Friend who likes the theatre?" John asked.

"Fiancé doesn't like it and Louis does," Donna shrugged. "It's give and take with him. I know Louis loves it as much as I do, so we've become excellent theatre buddies."

"So you and him?" John trailed off.

"Are friends," Louis perked up.

Donna went through her clutch and pulled out her phone. She browsed through her pictures and found a decent one of Harvey. Jessica had actually sent her the picture she had taken of them the night Harvey had won his award. His arm was wrapped around her shoulder as she leaned into him. It was strange to see her arm only three-quarters done with her sleeve. She was looking up at him, laughing at his bad joke. She turned the phone and held it to the former security guard.

"Well, isn't he something," John nodded as he looked at the screen.

Donna smiled and turned the phone back to her and Louis before nodding at the door.

"Anything for the best ballerina this country has," John said.

"John, you flatter me," Donna smirked.

Louis didn't miss John's blush as Donna gave him another kiss on the cheek before they made their way backstage. But he ignored that because he was about to have the best moment of his life. Never would he have thought one time making friends in a coffee shop would ever come to this. It was the second greatest day in his life: seconded only by his senior partnership at the firm.

~s~

Louis watched as a young child watched them. Well, watch Donna as she hung around him. Donna had been talking about Daniel Day Lewis and the other potential Broadway roles he could play in the future. He was half listening, half watching this child stare at Donna as if she were the sun. He remembered her in the theatre, a few rows up from them. She was old enough to act appropriately in the theatre. He had been wary, as he usually is with children and the theatre. But this child was well behaved: clapping when appropriate and staying silent the rest of the time.

Louis cleared his throat and Donna paused as she took her glass from the bartender.

"I think that's your fan," Louis said as he pointed the child out with his chin.

Donna turned and found the kid standing just outside the bar area. She looked to Louis and he nodded. She carefully handed him her drink and nodded a thanks before moving away from the bar and back to the reception area.

"Hello," she said as she reached the girl.

"You're Donna Paulsen, right?" the girl asked. When Donna nodded she continued. "I am Michelle. I am seven and I want to be a dancer just like you."

Donna held out her hand and smiled with a chuckle threatening to bubble up as the girl took her hand and shook firmly.

"Nice to meet you, Michelle," Donna smiled. She wondered if she should correct the little girl since she wasn't a dancer anymore. "You're in dance now?"

The girl nodded.

"We watch all your videos. You look different. You don't have that," the girl said as she pointed to Donna's left arm. "Miss Cathy loves you and wants all of us to be just as good as you. Mama pointed you out. You look pretty."

The girl pointed to her mother, standing a few feet away, watching the scene carefully.

"Thank you," Donna nodded, unable to say anything else.

"Can I get your autograph?" The girl asked, ignoring the silent pause.

"Sure," Donna nodded.

"Hold on, please," she added the please just as she ran back to her mom. The playbill was thrust at her a moment later, a pen poised in the little girl's hand.

She wrote a note to the little girl, telling her she can accomplish anything, and signed it with a flourish. As she handed it back, the girl smiled and looked down at the floor. She scuffed her shoes on the marble and Donna smiled.

"Do you want a picture, too?" Donna asked.

"May I?" the girl asked.

"Sure," Donna nodded.

She watched as the mother came up, her iPhone poised and ready.

"You want me to go and get my shawl?" she asked the mother. She knew some people kind of went ballistic at tattoos. She didn't want to offend anyone.

The mother looked at daughter and the little girl vigorously shook her head.

"No," she said. She moved to the other side of Donna to make a point she'd like to see Donna's sleeve of tattoos in the picture.

"Okay," Donna nodded. She crouched a little, making sure her dress was decent for pictures and wrapped her arm around the little girl's back. She smiled at the little girl before turning to her mother and waiting for the picture.

When the mother put the phone down, she stood up and greeted the woman, shaking her hand as the woman thanked her.

"Is that your husband?" The little girl asked as she watched Louis now linger slightly behind them. Donna knew he was in hearing range and smiled.

"No, he's not my husband. He's just my friend," Donna said.

"Where's your husband?" The girl wondered.

"He's at home," Donna said. Harvey wasn't her husband, at least not yet. But she was sure that the girl didn't really care or understand the difference between fiancé and husband. A ring on the finger was a ring to them.

"Why?" The girl asked.

"He had to finish some work," she told her.

"Michelle," the mother's voice warned.

"Sorry," the little girl said as she looked down to the marble tiled floor once again.

"Don't worry about it," Donna shrugged off the mother. "It's been a long time since I got grilled by a little reporter."

She heard the little girl giggle and she smiled slightly.

"We won't take up any more of your time," the mother said.

"Thank you," Michelle said quietly.

"It was nice meeting you," Donna nodded.

"Yeah," Michelle nodded.

Donna waved off the mother before she could correct her daughter. The mother nodded and Louis came up beside her, handing her back her drink.

"You'll make a good mom," he said.

Donna tilted her head and smiled slightly.

"You think so?" She asked.

"A great one," Louis nodded firmly.

"Thanks, Louis," she grinned.

Louis nodded and watched as she stared off into the distance.

"Donna?" he asked a moment later.

"Its weird," she began. "I have a niece almost that age and I've never seen her. Two nieces and a nephew I've never seen, actually."

"Really?" Louis asked.

"My family and I aren't on the best of terms," Donna nodded sadly.

Louis didn't know what to say but it looked like Donna didn't want pity or to talk more on the subject.

"You guys talk about that yet?" Louis wondered.

Donna took a sip of her martini before shaking her head in the negative.

"We haven't even started talks on a wedding. At least movers will be moving the stuff while we're gone under Jessica's supervision," she said.

"Well, it's only been a week and two days," Louis said.

Donna nodded. She wasn't too worried about it. They still had to make it through the upstate visit first. They had to figure out a plan for that trip before they could even start planning for anything else.

"Ready?" Louis asked, bringing her back to the present.

"I'm starved," Donna nodded.

"Steak and cheesecake with a healthy dose of how exactly he proposed to you," Louis nodded.

Donna took a large gulp of her martini and set it on the nearest counter space.

"Perfect night," Donna smiled as she took his arm and he led her to his town car.

~s~

When she returned to Harvey's place, the lights were dimmed enough to not cause a disturbance but light enough for her to find her way around without running into anything. She found him in bed, facing her side of the bed and files stacked on his nightstand. He was sleeping, soft snores coming from his frame as she stepped closer.

"Hi," she said quietly when she slipped in beneath the sheets and found him opening his eyes.

"How was Macbeth?" he asked sleepily. He waited for her usual routine, feeling her ankle to cross with his as she lay on her stomach, before wrapping an arm around her.

"Good," she said through a yawn. "Though the other time was better. I did get to surprise him by having him meet the cast."

"Hmm," he said noncommittally.

"This little girl asked for my autograph tonight," she said. She watched as he opened his eyes and looked at her.

"It's nerve-wracking, being a person someone looks up to," she said. "I didn't know I had fans. Especially ones that have never seen me dance in person."

"You'll always have fans," he told her. "Because you'll always be the best."

She leaned over and kissed him; he responded sleepily.

"Thank you," she whispered as she tucked her head under his chin.

"For what?" he asked.

"Everything, anything," she shrugged her shoulder.

"Welcome," he said quietly.

"I love you," she whispered against his skin.

"Love you," he whispered.

She listened to his breathing even out once again and she sighed contentedly. She wasn't ready for tomorrow. She didn't want to get up and leave this bed to face the family she hadn't seen in five years. She just wanted to stay in this cocoon of happiness for just a minute longer.


	3. Chapter 3

The car door seemed louder in the quiet air of the country. She hardly slammed the door, but it seemed like she did. Or maybe everything seemed louder when one was nervous. She wasn't sure of anything right now. It had been five years. A lot of things changed; she had changed. But as she looked at the house, she realized not everything changed. The front porch still looked the same as it always had: the wrap around porch needing a paint job and the swing swaying with the seemingly constant light wind as it swept through the fields surrounding the farmhouse. The slam of the front door brought her out of her musings and she looked beside her, noting Harvey with their bags and watching the house with one eye as he mostly focused on her. She itched to push up her sleeves from her long-sleeve shirt but figured it was about to be enough news that she was here and surprise she brought her new fiancé.

She recognized her nephews, slightly grown from the last time she saw them. They gawked at the car as she still stood frozen to her spot despite the want and need to move. For a split second, she wanted to tell Harvey to get back in the car and go home. But as soon as his fingers touched the small of her back, she found some courage. Not a lot, but enough to shuffle her feet and make her way to the steps.

"Mom," Donna nodded.

"Donna," Caroline greeted. "It's good to see you."

"This is Harvey," Donna said as she looked at the man beside her.

Donna's mother took him in, noting his attire. He tried to follow Donna's advice and dress casual but there wasn't a lot of casual wear in his closet. He opted for slacks and a light sweater despite the warmer temperature. Oddly enough he matched Donna's colour palette she chose to wear.

"Caroline," Donna's mother nodded as she stuck out her hand.

"Harvey Specter," Harvey said and shook the woman's hand gently.

"We didn't expect you until later. I can make you some lunch if you're hungry. Although we're eating in an hour," Caroline said as she motioned for them to come inside. She shooed the boys in front of her and they disappeared into the depths of the house before them.

"We're fine. My meeting was cancelled," Harvey said. "So, we had lunch and then came up."

The truth was his meeting did get cancelled but it was at ten o'clock this morning. One client had refused to let Harvey have the weekend off he requested to Jessica. So, he had scheduled the meeting early, knowing the client wasn't about to take it himself anyway. He wasn't overly disappointed when the whole thing ended up being cancelled. Instead of heading out right away, Harvey suggested lunch with Jessica knowing his boss would easily take Donna's mind off of coming upstate. After Jessica and Donna had exhausted their ideas of keeping Harvey in line, he had wrangled her into the car. He had let her vent and talk to him. It had worked, for a while, and then he tried to keep her out of her head by asking questions. By the last half hour, he let her be, knowing she needed some time to sort herself and her thoughts out.

"You know where the rooms are," she told Donna. "When you're finished and freshened up, your sisters are already here."

"Thanks," Donna nodded. She watched her mom walk away and led Harvey up the stairs and through the hallway to one of the last rooms.

"She expects us to sleep in separate rooms," she told him.

He eyed her warily, noting the expression on her face as she wasn't joking.

"Put it next to mine," she said as she nodded at his bag.

He visibly relaxed; she chuckled.

She had him put the bags in a corner and she lingered at the window. She could spot one of her sisters at the far edge of the patio and not much else.

"It's not too late to make an escape," she told him as she moved the curtains back to their resting position.

"I think I can take on your sisters," he told her. "And I'm sticking it to your mom."

"I warned you," she smirked as he stood behind her and looked over her shoulder through the window pane.

He shook his head.

"Thanks for coming," she said seriously.

He nodded.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Come and feed me to the wolves."

* * *

He listened as names and people were pointed at by Donna's mother. He wasn't sure he was going to remember them all but that's what Donna was for. She was the one who liked to memorize the names of people; he knew who he needed to know and that was it. When they did sit down on the patio furniture, he felt little fingers tugging at his pants. He looked down to find the youngest of the bunch at his side. Donna's mother had said she was two and a half and growing like a weed. She was holding a sunflower in her hand and reaching up to him with the other. Reaching around the arm of his chair he plopped her unceremoniously into his lap. Her little brown eyes looked up at him and she smiled. He smiled at her and said hi after she said it to him. He looked over to Donna and noticed she watched him carefully behind her sunglasses.

"You," the girl said. She showed him her flower.

"Flower," he nodded.

He didn't have much interaction with children but he knew that most people didn't like when people baby talked children. You were supposed to treat kids like adults, is what he has heard.

"You," she said again. This time her little chubby hands thrust the flower towards him.

"She wants to give it to you," Donna said quietly as she sat next to him.

"Oh," he nodded. He held out his hand and the flower was dropped in it.

The toddler on his lap clapped and leaned against him.

Harvey felt like this should have been strange: having a strange child he had only just met on his lap, giving him flowers. However, it wasn't as uncomfortable as he thought it would be. She was quiet and sweet, and unlike the rest of them, had already warmed up to the stranger of the house. He listened to the off-hand remarks by Donna's sisters and their husbands, mostly watching as Donna watched him and her niece.

"He drives a sweet car," an older nephew said. Harvey tuned back into the conversation.

"Oh, yeah?" a voice asked. Harvey assumed it was his father.

"Better than ours," the second boy nodded.

The crowd turned to him and he looked away from the little girl in his lap.

"What kind of car do you drive?" one of the brothers-in-law asked.

"This weekend? An Aston Martin Vantage," Harvey said.

"As if you drive a different car every week," the man scoffed.

"I own the Vantage and a '64 Shelby," Harvey nodded. "My other cars I get from my car club. But we have a driver on the weekdays."

Donna laughed quietly next to him.

"You do realize you just made us sound pretentious," she noted.

Harvey shrugged. He briefly wondered if this was the part where he was supposed to care what these people thought about him.

Soon, the conversation turned to golf and he tuned out once again. He opted instead to survey the people in front of him.

It amazed him that the three sisters could be so similar yet so different. The oldest one had blonde hair and was shorter than Donna, a little stockier, too. The other was almost as tall as Donna but she had darker hair. He wished there was a picture of Donna's father close by to see what colour hair he had. He noticed she didn't talk to her brothers-in-law very much, avoided them as much as she could. She did get along with the kids, however. They seemed not to care or notice the tension flowing between the adults. She had told him that five years ago she had two nephews and a niece on the way; now she had three nephews and two nieces: her older sister had a girl with her two older boys and the younger had one of each. She had only recently learned this from her mom, who thought she should be prepared for changes. The littlest ones seemed to take a real interest in him, toddling behind him as he set her down to move to get a water bottle from the cooler. He had swiped a bottle for Donna as well. And when he took his seat again, her niece once again in his lap, he made sure her niece played with the water that wasn't opened yet as she yet again gave him her flower to hold.

"What are you doing? Where are you living?" Donna's eldest sister asked.

"We live in Manhattan, Upper East Side," Donna began. Technically, she lived in SoHo but they were having their things moved this weekend to the new penthouse condo on the Upper East Side. "I teach."

"Teach? You? Teach what?" She asked. There was a hint of laughter in her voice. As if she didn't think her sister was capable of teaching.

"Students," Donna said as if she was stupid. After all, what else was there to teach than students. "I'm a professor."

"And the Dean of Dance," Harvey said.

"That's more pushing paperwork," Donna commented.

"Where do you teach?" Donna's mother asked.

"NYU," Donna told her.

"Why there?" her eldest sister asked.

"I got my Ph.D. there," Donna said. "They hired me as soon as I passed my dissertation presentation."

Donna ran her fingers through her hair when the silence started post-questioning. She twisted it into a bun before she let it fall back to her shoulders. Donna watched the moment her sisters caught sight of something on her. She checked to make sure what it was and smiled as she realized it was her ring.

"What exactly do you do?" One of her sisters asked as she moved forward.

"I'm a lawyer," Harvey said.

"What kind?" She continued. She was on Donna and Harvey now, holding out her hand so Donna could put hers in it.

"Corporate," Harvey said a bit warily.

"Wait. You're the one they call the closer, right? I think I saw a magazine article about you once," the sister's husband asked.

"I close impossible situations," Harvey nodded.

"So, you're…" Donna's sister trailed off.

"Getting married, living together? Yes, to all of the above," Donna nodded.

"You pick it out yourself?" She asked as she moved Donna's hand around. She felt the square diamond cushioned by another circle of diamonds.

"I had a coworker help me out. But for the most part, I did it myself," he nodded.

"If I only had the chance to marry like you," Donna's sister noted.

Donna wanted to tell her she was marrying for love, just like she did but it was a moot point.

She would have said something else but her brothers-in-law were called by her mother to start prepping dinner. The kids, minus the littlest one, all ran off in different directions to enjoy the last moments of freedom before dinner. And her sisters went inside to help with the side dishes.

"We're popular," Harvey noted.

"Yep," Donna nodded.

She watched as the two interacted in front of her. Harvey was trying to place the sunflower behind the girl's ear but the stem was too big and the little ears too small. The toddler found it more amusing to take Harvey's sunglasses and wear them upside-down on her face. She tilted her head up to keep them from falling, giving out a deep belly laugh as she fell over into Harvey's outstretched arms.

"You're good with her," Donna noted.

Harvey looked up and two sets of brown eyes met hers after the sunglasses slid into their laps.

"She reminds me of you," Harvey said. He watched as the girl took the sunglasses again.

"Oh?" Donna asked.

"Yeah," he nodded. There was no further expansion, no explanation. Just a continual play between future uncle and niece with a sunflower and a pair of sunglasses.

~s~

Harvey was the lookout as she readied herself for bed. He was mostly just leaning against the doorframe as she washed her face.

"That was a success," he joked.

She looked up at him via the mirror for a split second and shook her head.

"Just wait until everything sinks in," she said.

"Meeting my brother is a piece of cake compared to this," Harvey told her.

"Younger?" Donna asked.

"Yeah," Harvey nodded. "Kinda like Mike but he looks like me. Only, he's less handsome. And also a musician."

Donna chuckled and shook her head as she reached for a towel.

"You going to wear long sleeves the entire visit?" Harvey asked as he pointed to her shirt. It was his, actually. His high school baseball shirt. He still wondered where she had found it all these months later.

"Probably," Donna shrugged. "They're already worried about how I'm not good enough for you. If they found you were the one who suggested this, your bright shining star would be attached to my black hole."

"Suck me in," Harvey said. He held in the laugh bubbling at the surface until Donna broke.

"That may be the cheesiest line you have ever said to me. Don't ever do that again," she said. "Plus, you can't get lucky on this trip."

"Why not?" He asked.

"Faint memories of this place but the beds still stick out in my mind. They're basically pallets of wood with sheets on them. I may use you as a pillow," she told him.

Harvey looked at her skeptically. She shrugged and turned off the bathroom light and took his hand to lead him down the dark hallway.

She got in the bed and lay on her back, unheard of for her. He came around to the other side and lay on his side facing her.

"Just give it a minute," she told him as he went to tell her it wasn't so bad.

Soon enough his ribs felt like they were on fire from pressure. He tried to move in the bed, thinking it was just the spring he was on.

"I fucking hate this bed," Harvey said. He turned and lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling like Donna.

"Told you," Donna sang quietly.

"Can I have your pillow?" Harvey asked.

"Why?" Donna asked.

"I think the bed might be softer than my pillows. And you use my arm as a pillow 99% of the time," Harvey pointed out.

Donna scoots herself and her pillow toward Harvey. Harvey took her pillow and aligned it with his. He pillowed her head on his arm. It was sad to realise both were an upgrade. She adjusted her position to lay on her back and let him be as comfortable as possible with her pillowed by him.

"I'm sorry in advance for your dead arm in the morning," Donna said.

"Next time we're getting a hotel," he told her.

"You don't hear me complaining. And you know how much I hate sleeping on my back," Donna told him.

"Was the point of having shitty beds and pillows and scratchy sheets supposed to deter you from ever coming back?" Harvey wondered.

"Probably," Donna said with a smile.

"Do you think they're jealous of your ring?" He asked her.

"Probably," she parroted.

"Does that kid like me?" Harvey wondered.

"Which one?" Donna asked.

"Any? All?" Harvey shrugged.

"They like your car," Donna said. "But Ava probably likes you for you."

"Cool," Harvey nodded.

"Go to sleep before your ego inflates so much it suffocates us both," Donna told him.

"As long as you go running with me tomorrow," Harvey said.

"I wouldn't want you getting lost," she told him.

"At five am," he added.

"I hate you," she added.

"You love me," he countered.

"Unfortunately," she said with a dramatic sigh.

"Good," he nodded.

She gave a sound of agreement. It felt strange to not trace her tattoos as they attempted to sleep. Normally her tattoos would be on reach and on display for him. However, this bed and this vacation has so far denied him all possibilities of it. He was really starting to hate upstate.

* * *

They had run long and hard. She was set on venting through running, pushing past each mile until they were a few miles from town and seven miles down the road from the house. Harvey didn't complain once, and as they pushed open the door to the house, she was starting to regret him not speaking up. He was the one with the running app on his phone; he knew exactly how long they had been running. Her muscles were screaming as she opened up the front door. She froze as she heard voices but Harvey pushed her forward and stood behind her as they made their way towards the voices. Donna forgot about the fact she had been completely covered up yesterday until she watched as everyone stared at her and Harvey as the came into the house from their run. At first, she had thought it was because of her neon orange coloured shorts that clashed awfully with her hair. But then she realized she had run with her tank top she usually wore to wick away sweat when she danced under the hot spotlights. She didn't know everyone else got up at the crack of dawn. They weren't supposed to be up, they were supposed to be asleep. After all, it was just coming up on 6:15 in the morning, according to the microwave's clock. She looked over at Harvey before shrugging. The secrets were out, why hide them any longer.

"Morning," she said.

Her mother, sisters, and brothers-in-law stared and nodded a hello. Her oldest two nephews stepped closer, trying to examine her sleeve without getting too close.

She walked to the fridge, Harvey close behind her as she rummaged through the appliance for bottles of water.

"Do you have any pictures?" Her oldest niece asked as she stared at Harvey.

"No," Harvey shook his head.

"How many do you have?" Her oldest nephew asked as he stopped an arm's length away.

"52?" She turned to Harvey for confirmation.

"Sounds about right," Harvey nodded.

"So, 52," she confirmed.

"Cool," her nephews parroted each other.

"Breakfast will be in a half hour," her mother said as she broke the silence.

Donna nodded and looked at the adults in the room. She watched as they avoided meeting her gaze.

"We'll go shower then," Donna said.

"Fine," her mother nodded.

Donna turned towards Harvey and nodded at him to follow her.

"Well, at least we won't have to die of heat stroke," he quipped.

She slapped him and held in a laugh until she reached the point where they were out of sight.

~s~

The first full day they were at her mom's house, her nephews fawned over Harvey or more specifically his car. Her sisters took in Harvey's attire from afar. She smirked as he skirted around the two, having no idea their eyes were on him the entire time. She couldn't fault her sisters, Harvey was nice to look at and he was especially nice to look at in his casual clothes. She loved him in his suits, especially his three-piece ones, but she loved his casual attire, too. It wasn't hot enough outside for summer clothes yet, but the jeans and button down shirt with his sleeves rolled up suited his form well. Since it was mid-morning the sun was still low in the sky, the sunglasses he donned covered his eyes as soon as they stepped outside.

"Why is it the ones without the kids are always watching the kids?" Harvey asked. He didn't really understand why her sisters weren't outside watching their kids. He wondered what's happening inside that everyone but them needed to be inside.

"You'd think we'd be the bad influences on them and they'd make us stay away," Donna agreed. "Especially you."

"Me?" He scoffed.

"Yes, you. You are, after all, a city man," Donna smirked.

They quieted as two of Donna's nephews came up to the first step. She looked at the boys as they looked at her and then to Harvey and back to her again.

"Just ask, I'll make sure he says yes," Donna said as she turned to the boys.

"Can we look inside the car?" the eldest one asked.

Donna hid a smirk and looked at Harvey. He sighed and dug into his pocket to pull out his key. When he revealed the black key to the boys they not so subtlety high-fived each other. Donna loosened her arm and clapped her hands together.

"You may have to go babysit your car," she said as she heard the alarm switch off with a press of the button.

"Of course," Harvey said with a groan.

She watched her nephews fawn over Harvey's car as she sat now alone on the front porch steps. He stood just outside the open door of the driver's side. His sunglasses shaded his eyes from her view but she knew the look in them, his smirk playing at the corner of his lips confirmed he was full of himself. He never gave his wealth more than a passing glance, always handing over the now familiar black card whenever they went somewhere. He knew she wasn't in it for the money, but he did like to buy her things just because she deserved something to let her know she mattered.

"I see I've been reduced to the second favourite uncle with the boys," a voice said behind her.

She turned and found her oldest sister's husband looking down at her as he stood just behind her. His daughter was in his arms, reaching out for the man a couple yards away.

"I'm surprised he unlocked the door," Donna revealed. "He's very protective of his things."

"Including you," the brother-in-law said.

Donna only turned and smiled, watching him set the girl down before holding out her hand for the toddler to take. The little one squeaked out something incoherent but Donna noticed it got the attention of the one person she wanted. She watched Harvey as he spotted the girl. He told the boys something before making his way back to Donna on the porch. Her brother-in-law and Harvey nodded at each other and the former left with a _be good_  to his daughter. Harvey watched him walk away before taking a seat on the porch. He turned at the footsteps, nodding at her other niece as she finally figured out everyone seemed to be outside.

He was on the step above her, encircling her as his legs were on either side of her. She took advantage, leaning back against him as she used both of his legs as resting places for her arms. They were both looking out at the open pasture as her nieces and nephews all ran through the property. Well, some of them. Her oldest nephews were inside Harvey's car, taking turns pretending to be race car drivers. Her youngest nieces seemed to be destined to play with Harvey and by association, with her aunt. The youngest was sitting next to Harvey, her blanket in her arm and pacifier in her mouth. She was quietly looking up at Harvey, simply gazing at him. The oldest niece was down on Donna's step, tracing the various patterns on Donna's extended arm.

"What's that?" Her niece asked as she pointed to Donna's tattoos.

"That's a cherry blossom," Donna said as she looked to where she felt the five-year-olds finger.

"That?" She asked as she pointed to one on her outer arm.

"That's the symbol of Jupiter," Donna said as she briefly turned her arm to see.

"And that?" The girl asked again as she traced the letters.

"That means love," Donna told her.

"L-i-e-b-e," the girl spelled as she traced the letters. "That's not how you spell it."

"How do you spell it then?" Donna asked with a smile.

"L-o-v-e," the girl informed her proudly.

"Good job," Donna nodded. "But this is in a different language."

"Why?" The girl asked.

"Because he speaks it," Donna said as she pointed to the man listening intently behind her.

"Oh," she said.

"Mommy says you dance. I do, too!," she exclaimed.

"I used to," Donna nodded.

"Mommy says that Grandpa's office is filled with your trophies," she told her. "I told mommy I wanted to be as good as you."

"Really?" Donna asked. She wondered how her eldest sister responded to that statement.

"Can you teach me?" she wondered.

"You'll have to do really good in school and come to the city," Donna told her.

"Okay," the girl nodded.

Donna smiled and went back to watching the others again as her niece fell silent. She traced the tattoos now rather than asked questions.

"Want to know my favourite one?" Harvey asked the girl looking to him for entertainment now.

She nodded and stood up.

"Come here," Harvey said as he motioned for the girl to come stand over by him.

He moved Donna's hair out of the way and brushed his fingers along the rib of her tank top. He felt the girl lean into him as he pushed the area covering Donna's tank top to the right, exposing her new tattoos. Not to be outdone, the two-year-old leaned against his other side, needing to see what was happening.

Donna felt little fingers tracing the pattern, much the same way Harvey did every night.

"I like this one," she announced.

"Me too," Harvey said with a smile.

"Bird," the two-year-old announced around her pacifier.

"Exactly," Harvey nodded.

"Can we have a picnic?" the five-year-old asks suddenly.

Donna tilted her head back to look up at Harvey and they silently communicated. Both didn't care, as they were being somewhat shunned by the adults. So, it seemed like a good idea. After all, having a two and five-year-old was better than nobody.

Soon enough he's handed a sheet and a bag of grapes while Donna's handed chips and juice boxes and a hat for her head. Donna and her oldest niece walk ahead of Harvey and the youngest. Little Ava is determined to walk on her own: her blanket in one hand and her other wrapped around a few of Harvey's fingers. She stops to investigate little flowers along the way and Harvey can't help but chuckle at her inattention. He finds a little orange flower-he doesn't know the names of these things-and tempts her to follow with the promise of giving it to her. It works, and he hears Donna and her niece laughing at his attempts to get their littlest picnic buddy onto the sheet. They spread their sheet and their acquired food and drink out along the sheet. He's put half in the sun, half in the shade of the giant shade tree. The girls are playing with the dandelions just out of the corner of their eye and he looks down at Donna. He leans over her as she lays on top of the small section of blanket they've camped out as their own. She has her left arm up over her head, her right one laying across her stomach. She's half asleep and he's half aware of what's going on around him. He moves so he is cushioned by his forearm as he moves to play with her arm nearest him. Before he can do it however, she clamps onto his wrist and moves to entwine his fingers with hers. He leans forward, enough to view past the hat shading most of her face to look at her eyes. She leans up just enough to touch her lips to his briefly.

He likes kissing her. He likes the taste of her skin; there's a saltiness and sweetness to it that reminds him of everything he's missing when she's gone. And he loves it when she's spent the day at Le Chat getting a hint of the coffee and pastries as the smell and taste linger long after she's been home. Today is different yet the same. She tastes sweet and bitter, like the chocolate chips she had sneaked into her mouth before they departed the house, but smells like the sweet straw in the fields they lay in.

Before he can say anything there are little hands at his back and the two crawl over him to land atop their aunt. There's an 'oof' from Donna and giggles and deep belly laughs from all as the two little ones try to push him away yet keep him there at the same time.

The five-year-old lay her head on Donna's stomach, outstretched perpendicular to both adults. The two-year-old was slumped in his lap, half asleep as she lay between his crossed legs. Her head was pillowed on his stomach as he leaned back on his arms beside Donna.

"Uncle Harvey," the eldest niece asked.

"Yeah?" Harvey answered. He wondered where she got the uncle part from.

"Do you love Aunt Donna?" she asked in the way that kids do: all innocent and full of wonder.

"I do," Harvey nodded.

"Are you married?" she asked.

"Not yet," he told her.

"Can I be a flower girl?" she wondered.

"You'd have to ask your aunt and your mom," he told her.

She turned back to her aunt and asked the question again.

"As long as you like yarn-dyed taffeta," Donna said with a laugh.

"I don't know what that means," the little girl answered.

"It means yes, you can," she nodded.

"Love you, Aunt Donna," the girl said. She flipped over and hugged her aunt's waist.

"Love you, too," she said as she pats the girl's head.

They were silent for a moment, enjoying the peace and quiet when the girl piped up again.

"Are you going to have a baby, too?' she asked innocently.

Donna and Harvey looked at each other with mixed expressions.

She stayed silent, letting him field the question this time.

"Maybe," he said. "You want a girl or boy?"

"Girl," she nodded. "Because boys are icky."

"I'm a boy," he pointed out.

"But you're my uncle," she noted.

"Oh," he nodded. He wasn't understanding the logic but something must have been there. He just wasn't exactly sure.

"Maybe?" Donna mouthed when the girl's attention was back on a squirrel in the tree above them.

He shrugged his shoulders and knew from the smile that maybe they didn't have to really communicate the hard things after all. Maybe they were just naturally in sync.

~s~

The kids were all in bed and the adults finally got some alone time. Donna, Harvey, and Caroline all sat on the couch. Donna's eldest sister and her husband sat on the loveseat across from them and her youngest sat on the one perpendicular.

He was half listening to the conversation beside him. Donna was trying to explain what she was doing with her life and how they met. He was quietly tracing his fingers along her two little ravens, for the most part letting her tell the story. The room got quiet as Donna finished her story and he found himself looking up and watching her mom watch him.

"Don't you think you should pick a more respectable job? Or at least cover up your artwork when you're with him?" She asked. The word artwork sounded more like an insult than her praising her daughter's tattoos.

"No one has ever complained," Donna said. She looked at him for confirmation and he gave it to her in a nod.

"It just seems odd," Caroline said. "I would think a man of your calibre would at least have a girlfriend without all this... this stuff."

Donna bit her lip and looked straight ahead, watching the night sky out of the corner of her eye as she attempted to keep the tears from falling.

"I don't mean to be mean," her mother said.

"Sure," Donna nodded. "Indirectly insulting him through me is obviously not mean whatsoever."

"I didn't," Caroline began.

"I get that I'm not my sister. I get that being in the arts world is basically the equivalent of the shitty job but not everyone is cut out for accounting and nursing," Donna told her mom. She looked at her sisters and watched as they looked down and anywhere but her. "But don't you dare insult him for being with me. You may not like my life but I enjoy it. I love that I can come home to Harvey and sit and talk to him about everything and nothing. I have a job that I love, a man who actually loves me for me, and I have friends who I can enjoy things with. You may not count that as successful because it doesn't have a monetary value but what the hell, when was I ever your favourite anyway."

Donna finished, biting her lip hard and turning to Harvey as he watched from the couch.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. A tear leaked out and she tasted the salty drop as it caught in the corner of her lip. She took one last look around the room and walked away.

"Well," Donna's mom shrugged.

"I was the one," Harvey said as he stood up from his place on the couch. They all turned to look at him. "I was the one who convinced her to get the sleeve. She was telling me all these stories and I told her to make a visual roadmap. I was there for almost all the appointments."

"Harvey," Donna's sister began.

"Just watch her and maybe you'll see what I see," Harvey said.

"Which is?" Donna's mom asked.

"One of the few reasons why I love your daughter," Harvey told her.

Harvey went to his briefcase that still sat at the coffee table in the corner and opened it up. He pulled out two magazines and placed them on the table.

"I had these as backups, just in case. She was nervous enough as it is," He pointed at  _Inked. "_ There's a good article on page 11."

He pointed at  _Details_ , "I enjoyed the one on 42 and the article on 89."

With a nod, he left them to go find Donna. He only hoped he could find her quickly.

~s~

He found her in the last room down the hall. He noticed the decor, instantly assuming it was her father's old study. The place was perfectly kept up, not a speck of dust in sight. He found her in a corner couch, a soft blanket around her shoulders and leaning against the back of the couch. He closed the door and leaned against the heavy wood door as he looked at her.

"You okay?" he asked. His voice was just above a whisper, watching her sigh more than hearing it.

She looked up at him from her cocoon, shrugging her barely visible shoulders.

He pointed to the spot next to her and she nodded. She watched as he walked over to her slowly, hands in his pockets, and his head tilted ever so slightly.

She watched as he walked to the window and placed his hands on his hips. Even from his profile, she could see his jaw clench and his hands tighten. He was upset with her family and not with her.

"Why?" he asked.

"It was easier with my dad around," she said quietly. She moved from the couch to step towards him. She put her hand on his back and felt the tension. "At least he was a buffer."

"Its why you haven't come back in five years," he said as he turned to face her.

"I've made something of myself," she said as she licked her lips. "I'm the youngest full professor my department has ever had; I'm the dean of my department, I have a successful coffee shop, and I have you. I don't need to feel validated by them, Harvey. I stopped trying to please them when they blamed me."

"What about your mom?" he asked.

"No," Donna shook her head. "She's the only one who has never blamed me. But she hated the tattoos the first time around and she hates the fact I've always gone down my own path."

"I can be nice to her if she apologizes. But I'll only be civil to the others," Harvey noted.

"That's all I want," Donna said quietly.

"Donna," he called out. His hand shot out and grasped her hand as she moved to step away. "It's not your fault."

She bit her lip as she bent her head. Her gaze pooled with tears as she breathed in sharply. He tugged at her hand and she moved into his embrace, both quietly standing there.

"I'm just so tired," she whispered against his neck.

"Come on," he told her. He started moving to the couch.

He took the middle cushion, his arm going over the back of the couch as he sat. A clear sign he was offering himself up as a buffer zone if need be.

She leaned against him, her body automatically curling into his heat as she spoke.

"Sometimes I wonder what I did to make you start to care about what happens to me," she told him quietly.

He shifted slightly, making them both more comfortable as he leaned back into the plush leather of the couch.

"Easy," he said as his hand slid under the blankets and under her shirt to feel her skin underneath his fingers. "You made me the best damn coffee I will ever have."

His joke succeeded in making her laugh and he smiled to himself.

Her head rested on his shoulder and she let go of her grip on the blanket to entwine their fingers.

"You need anything?" he asked.

"No," she said. "Just… quiet."

"Done," he nodded. His chin rested on the top of her head and he felt her relaxing.

"You're far too relaxed now," she said a few moments later.

"Huh?" he asked.

"What did you do after I left?" she asked.

"Nothing," he countered.

"Harvey," she warned.

I may have given them  _Details_  and  _Inked_ ," he said.

"Please tell me you didn't say page 42," she said.

"Okay, I won't," he shrugged.

"You know you're going to lose all your credibility now," Donna said. "You were doing fine, albeit they were a little worried but now it's done."

"Because I did the whole photo shoot at Le Chat?" Harvey smirked.

"Because page 42 has you, me, Jessica, Louis, and a bunch of lawyers at the red carpet for your lawyer award thing and you're all supporting me. And this was pre-engagement," she told him.

"Tit for tat," he shrugged.

"You didn't let me read the article yet," she said as she leaned into him. Her arm wrapped around him as she made herself comfortable.

"It doesn't say much," he shrugged.

"I'm reading it in the morning," she told him.

"If you can get up before me," he countered.

"Please, I know your lock code to get into your briefcase. You can't hide it from me," she laughed.

An hour later her mother's head poked into the room. Harvey could see the woman from his vantage point if he turned his head. Donna was half asleep, her fingers playing with his as they spoke in hushed tones.

"Donna," her mother called out quietly. "They've gone home to your sister's house for the night."

"Okay," Donna said quietly.

The door closed without another word and Harvey shifted, getting her attention.

"We can leave tonight," he told her. "I can have the car gassed and ready. I'll call the chopper."

"No need for dramatics," Donna said with a small laugh. "But the thought is sweet. Tempting and sweet, but it will be fine tomorrow."

"If you're sure," he nodded.

She was only sure about one thing at this point, and it sure as hell wasn't with her family. But she'd try because she never stopped trying.

"Did I ever tell you about my dad?" he asked as she leaned against him. They weren't in a hurry to get up anymore.

"I think you know the answer to that question," she said.

Harvey smiled against the crown of her head, pressing his lips against it briefly before launching into all the stories about him and his father that would make her laugh. If there was one thing he could count on, it was the good moments between him and his father. And hopefully, those moments would at least lighten up the cloud around her.

* * *

She awoke to find him still asleep which was surprising. He was always up before her on the weekends, especially if there was a promise of breakfast. Last night she had promised to make him his favourite scones for the stories. His arm was curled around her waist, his form flush against her own. Her fingers travelled down his arm to curl over his as he held them together in the bed.

"Harvey," she whispered, her voice still sleepy. A mumble against her neck signalled he heard her. "The quicker you get up the quicker you get breakfast."

"One could argue I'm already up," he said.

She felt his smirk, could picture it on his face even though she couldn't see him.

"Didn't get enough last night?" she teased. Despite what she said on day one, he did have the ability to melt her resolve.

"I did," he said. He used his arm to move her gracefully to lay on her back as he propped himself up on his arm. "Once you mom went to sleep."

Donna looked at the clock and smirked.

"My mother is probably out with the horses," she whispered.

"All this talk of your mother is killing the mood," he said quietly.

Her fingers carded through his hair and she smiled as he brought his lips to her exposed skin.

"Breakfast?" she asked with a slight hitch of her words.

"Maybe later," he told her with a smirk.

"Idiot," she said as he brought his lips to hers.

~s~

As they came downstairs, she grabbed the magazines left by her family and flipped to Harvey's article while he opened his briefcase and moved to the bar countertop to spread out his paperwork with no little hands around to grab the papers. She came into the kitchen, reading the article and leaned against the side of the counter opposite him.

" _Details_ : You and your girlfriend [Donna Paulsen, NYU professor and former prima ballerina] are rather unconventional and hush-hush. You've been known to tell photographers no when they ask to get a picture of just you. Any reason?  _Harvey Specter_ : How would you like it if someone asked you to step away from your girlfriend for a picture? I don't see how we're unconventional: because she's a professor and I'm a lawyer? Because she has tattoos and I don't? We're rather boring homebodies. So, I think that makes us quite conventional. Who wants to hear about how we go home and grade papers and write contracts? No one."

Harvey ignored her but he couldn't keep the smirk off his face.

"You're such an idiot," she shook her head. She continued reading the article and smiled softly at each answer he gave.

"Read later," he said as he grabbed the magazines. "Scones take forever to make."

"Fine," she mock pouted.

She felt his eyes on her as she gathered all the ingredients. As she turned to start making the scones, she noticed her mother walking towards the house in the distance.

Donna's mom entered the house to see Donna and Harvey in the kitchen. Well, Donna was in the kitchen, Harvey was on a barstool with files in front of him.

"Morning," Caroline greeted as she noticed they halted their conversation.

"Morning," Donna greeted. Harvey gave a nod and turned back to his paperwork.

"What's this?" Donna's mom asked.

"Chocolate raspberry scones," Donna said as she turned to measure out ingredients.

"She bakes for you?" Caroline asked Harvey.

"Not every weekend," Harvey said as he looked up. "Sorry, I need to make a phone call to my associate."

Caroline nodded and watched Harvey as he took his phone and file outside. She turned back to her daughter who was carefully mixing ingredients.

"I'm sorry," her mother said quietly.

Donna's eye briefly looked up, brown meeting hazel, and she looked back down.

"Sometimes I forget you like to be unique," Caroline said.

"I don't like to be unique," Donna said. "I just prefer other, simpler things."

"I just worry about you sometimes," she said.

"I'm a big girl, mom," she told her mother.

"I know," her mother nodded. "But I can still worry."

Donna smiled sadly as she cut the butter into cubes.

"He's good for me, mom," Donna said.

Caroline looked at the open article and looked at the introductory picture. He was leaning against a wall, his favourite poster of Donna behind his shoulder. He had a case file in one hand, a to-go cup of coffee in the other. Not to mention he was in her favourite three-piece suit. He looked damn good, and he knew it by the smirk on his face.

"He knows that is you?" Caroline asked.

"Its his favourite picture," she nodded.

Caroline watched as Donna made the scones with precision. Just as she put the first batch in and put the rest in the fridge, Harvey appeared.

"I'll just put my stuff here," Harvey said as he gathered his paperwork.

"Everything okay?" Donna asked.

"Yeah, just have to go call Louis," Harvey said.

She nodded and watched him take his phone outside yet again. She turned to her mother and watched as she watched her.

"Can I?" Caroline pointed in the direction of her arm.

"Sure," Donna nodded.

She sat down on the island stool and offered up her arm to her mother. The weathered hands traced her arm as a whole, turning her arm as she took in the canvas before her. There were very few tattoos actually coloured and shaded, but they instantly drew her mother's eye. She felt her fingers tracing the branch of the cherry blossom tree that ran across Donna's upper inside forearm. Two cherry blossoms were falling from either side of the branch.

"Your father?" Caroline asked as she traced one of the light pink and white shaded flowers.

Donna nodded.

"And the other?" she asked.

"His dad," Donna said quietly.

"Which ones are for him?" Caroline asked as she looked outside before turning back to Donna.

Donna took her arm from her mother's grasp and ran her finger over the left side of the cherry blossom branch. There were three flowers there on that side, rather than the five on the other. She pointed to the first cherry blossom on the branch. When her mother nodded, she continued up her arm to the word liebe.

"Why in German?" Caroline asked.

"Because he speaks it. Because writing  _love_  in English is cliché," Donna said.

"Your father spoke German," Caroline told her. "All through high school. He was the translator for all the factory workers up here back when everyone hated the Irish and Germans equally."

Donna smiled and looked down at her arm, tracing the cursive on her arm.

She moved to the outside of her arm, pointing at the lavender rose that was in full bloom. It wasn't fully coloured, only shaded a light lavender in parts to make it look like a rose rather than just an outline of one.

"Love at first sight," Donna said as her mother's brow furrowed. "He fell for the coffee first, actually. But a coffee cup tattoo is too hipster for me."

Donna turned herself to place her back to her mother, pointing to her shoulder blade.

"This is my newest and his favourite," Donna said.

Donna's mother gently pulled at Donna's shirt, the material giving way to reveal the two sparrows. The two heads began at her shoulder blade, curling towards each other as the flew into each other. The bodies and heads each formed their own half of a heart, the tails fulfilling the intersection point. However, Donna extended the tails to end at her spine. Thanks to Harvey's care, since she couldn't really see the area unless she looked in the mirror, the newly tattooed area was only slightly peeling. Not as bad as the feather tattoo she had gotten years ago.

"They make a heart," Caroline said as she adjusted Donna's top again.

"He loves that part," Donna said. "He knows what it means."

Caroline looked over her shoulder to watched Harvey pace back and forth outside. They could hear a muffle of his voice but not what he was saying.

"And?" Caroline asked.

"That he's home; that I love him," she told her mother. "Sparrows are the birds that lead you home."

As if he could sense the conversation turned to talking about him, Harvey looked through the sliding glass door. He spared them a glance and then turned back to his file.

"They're," Caroline stalled. She looked for the right words.

"You don't have to say anything," Donna said. "I know you'd rather I not have any."

"I just find it different," Caroline said tactfully.

Donna turned her arm, finding the shattered crown.

"I can't be the favourite or the best, but I'm at least trying," she said.

Fingernails touched the two similar tattoos: one whole and one shattered. She watched her mom take in the tattoos only seen by a few.

"Oh, Donna," Caroline whispered. "I'm so sorry."

Donna nodded and looked out to the patio. She watched Harvey standing there, watching the scene before him. As her mother made a move to hug her, he smiled sadly. She broke eye contact with him and hugged her mother tightly, finally getting a small piece of what she wanted for the last five years.

One down, two to go, she thought as she watched Harvey come inside.

* * *

Everyone had wanted to go with him but his car had enough room for him and Donna alone. He promised each of the nieces and nephews before they left that night that he'd drive them to town and back. As he thought about what he just promised, he wondered what the hell was in the country air to make him promise anything.

Harvey took her hand as soon as he rounded the car. She looked at him and removed her hand, placing her arm through his and leaning towards him as they began to walk. She had wanted to wear black or dark clothing for the occasion but they all seemed to go missing. Instead, she wore a light gray dress with black heels. His light gray Tom Ford suit, his favourite and hers too, matched her dress and his tie matched her shoes. They walked behind her family and waited until the very end before stepping up to his gravestone. Before she could say anything Harvey seemed to pull a bottle out of nowhere. Later she would find out he had snuck it in her purse. Her eyebrows rose in question as he pulled out three shot glasses from his pocket.

"My dad loved this stuff," Harvey began. He unlinked their arms and handed the shot glasses to her. "When I go visit him every year, I do this."

"You want to share this with me?" She asked.

"I do," he nodded as he broke the seal of the cap.

She looked at him and even with her sunglasses on, he could tell she was staring at him and more than likely had tears in her eyes.

"He's a part of you," Harvey said as he took the shot glasses from her and placed them on the top of the headstone. "Just like my dad is a part of me."

He poured and watched the liquid overflow slightly. He paused when he was finished, capping the bottle. He took off his sunglasses and watched her do the same, tucking them into the collar of her dress. Not fashionable but functional for the time being.

She took the shot glass from Harvey's fingers and silently asked now what. He turned to her father's grave and raised his shot glass.

"To..." he trailed off.

"Peter," she said.

"Peter Paulsen, seriously?" Harvey asked.

"Don't make fun," Donna said as she withheld her giggle.

"To Peter Paulsen," Harvey said with a smirk.

"Idiot," Donna said as she raised her own glass. She clinked with Harvey and downed the smoothest whiskey she had ever tasted.

Harvey laughed to himself and turned to Donna.

"Thank you," she said. She stepped into him, her arms wrapping around him.

"He would have liked you," Donna told him as she looked up at him. When she looked over his shoulder, she watched her family watching them behind the tree line. "I know a lot of people say that but its true in his case. At least he would have enjoyed getting into arguments with you and laughing about it over a scotch later that night."

He laughed a little, holding her a little tighter as her forehead met his shoulder.

He looked at the full shot glass on the gravestone, reading the inscription written in the stone. He may have never known Peter Paulsen personally, but he'd forever be grateful to the man.


	4. Chapter 4

With a new year coming, a new change is in the air and although Jessica starts the ball rolling, he keeps it in motion. But he's surprised at who his boss picks as the delivery weapon of choice.

On New Years Eve morning, she comes back to bed with his coffee in her hands. He can smell the vanilla and spice she's combined to create his favourite drink and he thinks one day he'll get fat from drinking these almost every morning. But he can't help it. Maybe he'll just work out more.

She's been up for a while. He can tell because she's half dressed and her hair is still in that taming stage after she's dried her hair and it needs about a half hour to settle and become less frizzy and poufy. It happens a lot in the winter when there's that weird moisture in the air, especially when it's snowing and this morning is no different. She's wearing his chambray shirt he had worn the night before when they had met Louis for drinks and dinner as a post-holiday sort of get together. It's half buttoned and he can see her bra when she shifts. Its abhorrently bright, a pastel sort of blue, and he wonders how the hell women can wear that color and not have it show through their sheer tops when they layer.

"Morning," she says as she hands over the cup as soon as he sits up and leans against the headboard and pillows.

"Sleeping in?" He asks in a light tone.

"I made it to six," she shrugs.

It looks like she wants to sit on the bed and continue with their usual morning routine of her working on a crossword as he sips his coffee, traces the ink on her arms, and prepares for the next fifteen hours of his day. But a moment later her attention is diverted.

She looks out the slider and watches as the sun is still rising between the buildings. She opens the door and steps out, feeling the chilly winter air surround her even as the sun burns hot and bright. She hears the door open again and looks over her shoulder as she leans against the balcony railing. The metal chills her skin and she laughs. Her breath mingles with the cool air.

"It's freezing," he points out from his perch at the door.

She turns to face him and shrugs her shoulders. He figures she's still overheated from having to blow-dry her hair. He'll never understand so he just lets it be.

"Says the man standing outside in his underwear," she says as she gives him a once over.

His hair is still sleep mused and the hand that doesn't hold his coffee cup is scratching at his waist and she laughs to herself. His boxer briefs hang on his hips, slightly crooked, and she wonders if it's slightly bothersome. He must have been in a haste to get to her despite just being steps away. A moment later he seems to read her mind and answer her question as he pulls at the elastic waistband and adjusts himself. She holds in a laugh as she watches the process and realizes that no one else gets to see this side of him but her and it's quite endearing. Sometimes she doesn't need to be that informed but it makes for an amusing anecdote she can recall when he's gotten himself into one of his moods. And it seems that he's going to stand there and freeze his ass off instead of going back inside until she does so she takes the hint.

She sighs and makes her way over to him and he steps back inside and she follows. He makes his way back to the bed and sits on the edge and sips at his cup.

She stands in front of him and he takes a hold of her wrist and feels the chilly air still clinging to her skin.

"Come back to bed," he tells her.

"I'm dressed," she points out.

He gives her a skeptical look but does concede she does have those one pants on that get wrinkled really fast.

"You're cold," he tells her. He flops her wrist up as a sort of proof for her.

"Is this the part where you tell me you'll warm me up?" She teases with a light laugh and he almost spits out the gulp he unwisely drank as he finished his point.

"Shower, shave, get dressed," she tells him.

"It's not even seven," he points out as he looks at the clock beside him.

"And no one comes into the office before nine, especially not a senior partner," she finishes. "Yeah, but I wanted to talk to Jessica about something and unlike her number one senior partner, she is at the office at seven am."

He pouts. It almost works too.

"I'll make you breakfast," she compromises.

"Scones?" He asks.

"You don't think I know how long scones take?" She shakes her head. "Frittata."

He can't complain because he loves those, too.

"Potatoes and sausage?" He suggests.

"Only if you're in the shower in the next fifteen minutes," she tells him.

He sighs and points at his coffee.

"That's why I said fifteen," she points out. He's weird and likes to savour the coffee in its entirety.

He drops her wrist and watches her walk away.

~s~

Her fingers rest against the crook of his elbow as they make their way down the sidewalk from where Ray dropped them a few blocks away. Ray had been a little apprehensive but she told him she'd be fine walking in the slush because she didn't have heels on today. And when Harvey looked down, he noticed the boots she wore. They weren't snow boots but it seemed like she was anticipating the snowy-slushie walk to his office as traffic backed up.

He let her go in the revolving door first and she waits for him on the other side. She links their fingers beneath their overcoats and he thinks maybe next time they should wear some gloves. Her fingers are chilled and the metal of her ring is even colder as it slips through his fingers. They pass the security guard and the man gives him a grin and he nods back politely after Donna says hello and greets him by name. These days, he's not surprised she knows everyone in this building.

It was so early the elevators were devoid of people he'd have to ignore and it was rather nice. Typically when he came in one or more associates or junior partners would be on the lift and attempt to make conversation with him. He may have to start coming in earlier... Maybe.

"Why are you so jumpy?" He asked casually as he leaned against the back of the elevator and felt her brushing against him occasionally.

"I'm not," she tried.

He raised a brow but said nothing more. He knew when to pick a battle and this was not one of those times.

The elevator dinged on the fiftieth floor and she stepped out first. When he stepped out behind her and turned to tell her he'd be in his office if she wanted to stay a while after her meeting or whatever with Jessica, he saw it.

When they had left for a mini stay-cation at Christmas on the 21st, it was still Pearson Hardman adorning the walls. But now, instead of Daniel Hardman's name, his own name graces the wall behind his fiancée. When he focuses back on Donna she has that  _I told you I could keep a secret_  face on and doesn't even bother hiding the grin on her smug face.

He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing comes out.

"You finally have your name on the door," she tells him. She looks over her shoulder and notices the two names flow better than the former name of the law firm. "Well, the wall, since I thought it would sort of spoil the whole surprise if it was on the directory door thing downstairs before you got the full effect."

"You knew," he tells her as he connects the last few puzzle pieces in his mind.

"Of course I knew. Jessica told me last week," she states proudly.

He shakes his head and she curls her hair around her ear as she looks to the floor as he steps closer.

She doesn't expect to be engulfed in his arms in a bone-crushing hug. There's no one else around and he takes advantage. His public displays of affection are limited to his office and her office. It's often just a simple brush of the fingers and if she's feeling bold she'll kiss him and then laugh as she walks away and he can't hide the sheepish grin. He looks so happy and content that she can't help being in the moment. Her fingers are still cool to the touch but he doesn't seem to mind as they trail across his jawline as she leans in to kiss him. It's short and sweet and his mouth is warm and familiar. She thinks maybe his teeth catch on her lower lip in some sort of retaliation for keeping this from him but it's hardly her fault she enjoys it more than thinks its punishment. Plus, the whole secret thing was Jessica's idea. She can't help but laugh against him as a smile breaks out on his lips as he moves his against hers. She pulls away to laugh appropriately and make him aware it's the circumstances and not him. And when she pulls away her fingers rid his lips of her rose salve she put on before they left the condo.

She clears her throat and steps back ever so slightly and he turns to face the intrusion that they both apparently missed sneaking up on them.

"Congratulations, Harvey," Jessica whispers as she leans towards them as though it's some secret he's being let in on.

"Jessica," Harvey says as he releases his hold on Donna and she takes the opportunity to shimmy out of her coat and drape it over her arm.

"I held a board meeting in your absence," she says if he didn't know she had to get the board's approval for a newly named partner.

"And they approved? Of me?" Harvey asks. If he knows anything, he's well aware he's a pain in the ass to almost all of the partners with voting power. He may win them big money and clients but that doesn't make up for him being an asshole, or so Jessica likes to remind him.

"Louis made quite the compelling case," Jessica says as she conspiratorially whispers. As if Louis is here somewhere.

Harvey bites the inside of his cheek. He hates Louis's soft side. He hates that Louis is a better friend to him than he is to Louis. He doesn't even know what could compensate for this kind of thing.

"Of course you'll be respectful that he needs a day to process this," Jessica points out as more of a demand than a suggestion.

Harvey nods.

Jessica finds her job done and nods behind him to Donna and he wonders what the hell all that was about.

"I'll brainstorm with you but I'll need to check on Louis a little later," Donna informs him as she watches him admire his name one more time and then they begin the short trek down to his office.

* * *

He's leaning against the doorjamb between the bedroom and bathroom, trying to stay out of her way as she goes back and forth, as he watches her get ready. Ray just dropped her off and she has a half hour before they have to leave and she's giving him a look of  _why did we say yes to this again_. It's amusing and frightening at the same time. She asks what it's for again as she moves from their closet to the bathroom once more. This time she's changed her dress and he eyes it appreciatively.

"So, what you're telling me is there's basically a multi-class Harvard reunion at the Harvard Club and you don't think you'll know anyone there?" She asks as she reads between the lines as he finishes speaking. She's putting on crimson coloured lipstick that makes her look absolutely sinful and he watches the tube trace her lips instead of answering her question. "Isn't it like some sort of requirement all Pearson Specter lawyers graduate from Harvard? I mean, I know I don't have the employee handbook but Louis likes to spill your firm's little secrets on occasion."

"Doesn't mean I know any of them," he informs her. "I'm not the managing partner."

She looks at him through the reflection in the mirror and he shrugs. He's not the people person of the firm. That's all Jessica and she loves her domain. If she needs people handled, she calls him. But if it's just people then he stays as far away as possible. There's a reason he's stayed in his old office and never even attempted to move into the huge corner office. He's the best goddamn closer and he's perfectly fine calling everyone by their wrong names.

"We really don't have to go," he says.

She's not here for his self-pity. Or his ego. He's been hemming and hawing about this dinner gala and he's only going because it's the charity event that he loves because he secretly loves giving lower-middle-class kids the ability to go to Harvard. He can relate to them even if he never says it aloud. She's had a long enough day of her theatre students egos that she just wants a drink and dinner and conversation that doesn't revolve around sensitive artist egos and how she can't possibly understand the nature of the character because she hasn't immersed herself as deep as they have for this role. As if she's never done the play before.

"I've just spent the last ten minutes changing my entire wardrobe for this, we're going."

He at least nods.

"Jessica will be there?" She asks.

"Yes."

"Louis?"

"Unfortunately."

"Harvey," she warns.

He holds his hands up in front of him.

"Mike?"

"No."

She frowns.

"He's busy doing the case study things. Plus, this is more for named and senior partners."

"Rachel?"

"She'll never step foot at the Harvard Club. She's going to Columbia. And even if she did go to Harvard, there's a rule that women can't get memberships."

"And yet somehow Jessica and I can go?" She asks.

"You're my fiancée," he points out. "They'll have you listed Harvey Specter's plus one on my membership."

Before she opened her mouth, he continued.

"It's not my rules. I hate that loophole. Jessica can only go because she's Louis's plus one. The only managing partner that's a woman in the city and she can't get a membership."

She nodded once and went back to letting her hair loosen from the bun she wore.

She had a feeling it might be a long night.

~s~

She has a glass of scotch in one hand and a skewer of squash and zucchini fritters in the other when Louis and Jessica enter the banquet room on the second floor.

"Party's already started?" Jessica quips.

"You look…" Louis trails off as he finds the right words. "Conservative. Beautiful, like always, but conservative."

She laughs at his assessment. She wears a crimson coloured dress the same shade as Harvard's colours. And everyone knows she prefers sleeveless dresses. Which is why she wears a fitted white blazer with sleeves that cover her arms. When she puts her arm up to eat or drink, there's a hint of the ink on her arm but not enough to really be offended by it.

"Please tell me," Jessica trailed off.

"Oh, no," Donna says quickly. "This was all my idea. If Harvey had his way I wouldn't have this on. But I thought my first foray into the underbelly of Harvard's clubs should be inconspicuous."

She receives small smiles from both of them.

"One of these old guys saw a hint of ink when he went to take my hand to kiss it, gross by the way, and I thought he was going to have a heart attack. But I'm pretty sure Harvey is okay with us getting kicked out for the night if someone is offended."

She bites off the last fritter and looks at both of them trying not to laugh aloud. Harvey's never been one for these types of things.

"Another?" Louis asks as he looks to the hors-d'oeuvres in her hand. Well, the empty skewer.

"Yes, please," she confirms.

"Coming right up," he nods and bows out a moment later.

"This place is stuck in the 1700s," Donna notes to Harvey's boss as she turns to observe the room.

"Harvey told you," Jessica says as she looks over at the younger woman.

"I was talking about the panelling but yes, he did," Donna nods. "There's quite the double standard in this place. You know the really old crotchety ones I've met call me Miss Paulsen. It's fantastic. I've never felt more demeaned in my life. I have a doctorate so it's polite to call me Doctor Paulsen but since I'm a woman..."

"We come here for the lunch," Jessica says. "Harvey otherwise doesn't like to step foot in this place."

"He's never taken me here for lunch," Donna says.

"It's delicious," Jessica says. "We'll have to come here for a celebration lunch one day when we all have a free day."

Louis comes back with a waiter carrying a plate of fritters and the man-boy, really-holds one glass of scotch and Louis carries two martinis, passing one off to Jessica. He signals for the kid to exchange glasses with Donna and she quickly sips the last remnants of her first drink. She thanks the kid and Louis takes the tray of fritters in his own hands and shoos the kid away.

They stand at the edge near the balcony and watch people enter one by one. And maybe Donna lightens the room by creating stories for the stodgy old men that eye the two of them flanking Louis as they pick at the fritters and sip at their drinks.

~s~

They stand in a corner of the room near the bar in a strange square shape. He's sipping at his scotch watching Donna as Louis recounts a story from their associate days. Of course, Louis embellishes and Donna knows this as she shoots him an amused look as he subtly shakes his head. Louis is almost finished with his tale when Harvey's name is called just behind them. Jessica is the only one with the direct vantage point of who it is and she's shooting him a concerned look and he's too curious not to turn around. And when he does, he feels Donna stare weighing heavily on him.

When four sets of eyes turn to the interruption, she at least has the sense to look a bit sheepish.

"Scottie," Harvey greets. "I thought you were in London."

"It's a multiple class reunion," she points out.

"And yet you seem to have missed out on all the others," he points out. He's confirming to her that he wasn't born yesterday. He knows a move when he sees it.

She at least has the sense to nod in defeat.

He takes a sip of his drink and nods in understanding. He's wondering who exactly she came in with. But then he remembers that one year she came in using his name and member number. So, she probably did the same since his member number is a lifetime sort of thing. Well, if he keeps renewing it every year.

"You remember Louis Litt and Jessica Pearson," he says rather than asks.

Scottie nods and neither Louis nor Jessica reach their hands out for a friendly greeting of a handshake.

His fingers find the material of Donna's blazer and pulls her close. She doesn't mind. She's too curious about the woman in front of them. She feels him dip his hands under the blazer to the fabric of her dress and she leans into him.

"This is my fiancée, Donna Paulsen," Harvey introduces them. "This is Dana Scott; we went to law school together."

Donna is the only one without a shared history and so she doesn't see the problem in being civil. So she and Scottie shake hands. The woman's hands are soft yet calloused from years of working with papers and folders and pens and all that. Her grip is firm and determined and Donna knows it has to be confident because of the field the woman has chosen.

Louis steps up when their hands fall to their sides. Donna recedes back to Harvey's side and her arm sneaks under his suit jacket and her fingers bunch in the silky back of his vest.

"How long?" Scottie asks and trails off as she looks between the two.

"Almost four years," Harvey points out. His birthday and therefore their first official date is next week.

"Congratulations," Scottie nods in that polite way everyone does if they don't know the situation particularly well but stepped into it themselves.

Luckily Jessica breaks the tension and offers to but Scottie a drink at the bar. Never let it be said Jessica isn't a master of diffusing situations.

~s~

Donna and Harvey are leaning against a bannister and she tilts her head towards him as she follows the shorter brunette around the room. She trades sips of scotch with Harvey since hers is gone and he ordered a double and Louis hasn't come back from his tour of the silent auction baskets yet.

"She's pretty," Donna notes.

Harvey turns his head to look at her as she watches Scottie work the room.

"What do you think she's really here for?" She wonders as she bumps his shoulder.

"A job?" He shrugs.

"Or you?" She finishes.

He looks at her strangely.

"Too bad you're stuck with me," she informs him.

"We're not married yet," he points out jokingly.

She leans into him and her nose brushed against his cheek and her forehead rests against his temple as she laughs.

"You're an idiot," she whispers.

He smirks and tries to hide it behind his drink. He doesn't have to say anything to that because one of his lesser rivals soon brushes up to the two of them.  
It's a never-ending interrogation of Donna as everyone who seems to think they know Harvey tell her what she's getting into and how far along they are in wedding planning and hint it's never too late to back out. A few of the older generations even tout this place for the vows and rehearsal.

She wonders if telling them all to fuck off would get them kicked out. So instead she begins to make up elaborate tales about their wedding planning. She reads the facial expressions as she goes into her tale and waits for the moment where she has them hook, line, and sinker and then tells them that they'll probably not do any of that after all. She gets looks and she smirks inside.

After the fourth round of this game, he leads her to the Gordon Reading room; the furthest room from where the banquet was being held. The second bell had just rang out in the chatty atmosphere which means dinner will be served in fifteen.

As soon as she stepped into the room and he closes the door, she takes off her white blazer and places it over a chair as she moves to the windows.

"I told you I hated this place. Well, I like the lunches but the rest isn't worth it," Harvey informs her.

She thinks she might have been more understanding but he doesn't tell her why until they're in the middle of the situation. There are specific functions he likes that are mostly put on by Pearson Specter. He even occasionally goes to a new associates dinner party because he now had his name on the door and does like to make an appearance and have a drink. But for the most part, they spend so many hours apart every day that both just want to hide away at home.

She can't help but laugh at the two of them. He bumps her shoulder the way she does to him and she wraps her arm around his waist and turns into him.

They're both tired. She's also a little tense from questions she's refusing to answer based on the fact she knows no one and doesn't have to answer to them. They're both sure more than half would go to the press with little details.

"I hate that their food is so delicious," she points out.

"Their dinners aren't as good as lunch," he points out.

"So you all keep telling me," she sighs. And she's actually starving at this point. Fritters only last so long.

Her forehead rests against his chest and he wraps his arms around her frame.

"I already put in Louis's name for the silent auction," he laughs at himself.

If only he knew she told Louis to put Harvey's name in all the auctions she would love and Harvey would hate.

"Does that mean we can ditch this place and go get that Thai place I love?" She asks a little too enthusiastically.

He rests his chin on the top of her head and chuckles. He hates that Thai place. But he'd rather have a meal of Thai food with her and being able to be themselves over this thousand dollar plate gala-class reunion.

"We have to tell Louis and Jessica," he concedes.

She digs his phone out of his pocket and enters his password, sending a text to the two of them and waiting for a reply before locking in back up and placing it back in his pocket.

"Done."

She won't tell him Louis asked to join and Jessica replied back no because they were making it a date with just the two of them.

Donna grabs her jacket and he takes her hand and they move down the stairs quietly avoiding the two banquet rooms.

Scottie finds them as she makes her way around the first floor.

"Harvey, can I talk to you?" Scottie asks as they pause on the last landing.

"Make an appointment with my assistant," Harvey tells her.

Scottie nods and watches the two take the last few steps and vanish out the doors.

* * *

He gets back from lunch with Donna later than usual with a cup of coffee in his hands. Jessica catches him between her office and the elevator bank and smirks. She reaches up and adjusts his tie and rather than feeling sheepish and ashamed, he gives her a small smirk as she chuckles.

"Why can't you have lunch with her every day?" She asks him more as a rhetorical question but he answers anyway.

"I could see how she'd love me interrupting her class for lunch. I'm sure she'd love it with the Restoration Era Plays class she has this semester. She has nightmare stories worse than our client stories."

She only lifts a brow in a sort of 'I don't believe you' moment.

"Tell Donna to use her rank next semester and not have any lunchtime classes," she suggests with a shrug.

"I'll let you suggest that," he tells her. "Now, I need to get to a meeting I'm late for."

"Bullshit," Jessica says.

"Fine. I need to prepare myself for my next meeting."

Jessica wordlessly asks who it is he's meeting.

"Scottie made an appointment the day after the gala. I've been too packed with court and your meetings you gave me to meet with her until now."

Jessica bows her head, steals his coffee, and steps to the side allowing him to pass.

"Next time, bring me a cookie or a cake, too," Jessica points out as she takes a sip.

He almost protested that was his coffee until she gave him a look so he shut his mouth and makes his way to his office. He hates that everyone loves Le Chat and steals his coffee. He's really got to find a way to keep them away from him when he has coffee without having to buy everyone a coffee to fend them off. He stands in the doorway when he notices his next appointment is already waiting at his desk and his assistant nowhere to be found.

"Scottie," he greets as he makes his way around to his desk.

"Your assistant wasn't at her desk," she pointed out.

"His," he clarifies.

She frowns.

"One of my associates took your phone call. My assistant is male, Cameron."

But that was a moot point and he really hated this new security guard that let clients up when everyone was at lunch. Didn't the guy know law firms had sensitive documents?

"Well, at least you weren't manhandling my records," he says. His clients love snooping through his records like he has some sort of secret hidden in them.

"She doesn't seem like your type," she begins.

It takes a moment to figure out where she's starting from but as soon as he figures it out there's a pause to reign himself in.

"Because she has tattoos? If you're here to shit on my fiancée," he warns.

"I'm just making an observation," Scottie tells him.

She looks behind his desk and stares at the single photograph of the couple in question between his awards for being a charitable guy and autographed baseballs signed by clients. Considering he has no other photos anywhere, she must mean a lot to him. And he must like to show her off. Despite how off his type she seems, she is beautiful. She has to contend that much.

"Engagement photo?" She asks as she nods to the picture with her chin.

He looks at it even though he knows exactly what she's talking about.

"No," he says as he looks back at her. "That's her Facebook profile picture, I think. That was taken by my associate at Jessica's birthday party last year."

"Oh," she notes.

She stares. She not sure if she's ever seen Harvey laugh like he is in the picture. They aren't even looking at each other. Donna was looking at herself in the mirror and Harvey was standing at her back, turned to face his associate and leaning against the wall. Donna was adjusting her favourite summer straw fedora on her head and one of them must have said something, probably Donna with the smirk playing on her lips, and the picture was snapped. Though it wasn't a large picture, Scottie got a nice view of what was hiding under the blazer at the Harvard Club and the ring on her finger she missed because Harvey had been holding onto that hand both times she had run into him.

"What did you want, Scottie?" Harvey wonders as he watches her look past him to the picture still.

She looks from the picture to him. He's different than she remembers.

"Your name's on the door," Scottie points out.

"It's been on there for a month," he informs her. "I know you've known that the entire time. Nothing happens in this world without everyone knowing. Why are you here?"

"I want to move back to the States," she informs him. "I want to be in New York."

He wants to know what's got her changing her path after 12 years abroad.

"I don't see a résumé," he points out.

"I didn't think I needed one," she tells him.

He thinks it's rather presumptuous of her. Just because they had been friends once doesn't mean she gets his automatic stamp of approval to work here.

"Why this firm?" He wonders.

She shrugs.

He laughs under his breath as he leans back into his chair.

"There are a hundred firms in the city alone," he shakes his head. "You really don't want to work  _for_  me."

She tries to speak but he continues.

"Because that's what you'll be doing. You'll be working for me, not with me." She's never really thought about it like that, he guesses from the way she sort of furrows her brows and looks away from him.

He leans forward in his chair and watches as she realizes she'll never fit in at Pearson Specter.

"We were always at our best when we were against one another," he points out quietly.

She swallows and nods. She stands and hesitates for a moment.

"You're not the same man you were in law school," she points out quietly as she stands. "Before, you would have never been this nice to me."

It's been almost fifteen years since law school, he wants to point out. Of course, he'd change in fifteen years. Before he can ask her what that means, she continues.

"It's a good thing," she notes and she looks over his shoulder at the picture again.

She meets his eyes and gives him a half smile as she nods. He doesn't apologize or say much else and just watches her gather her things.

"Scottie," he calls out as she reaches his door.

"If you need a recommendation," he trails off.

"Thanks, Harvey," she nods.

He watches her go and sighs to himself, making a mental note to tell Cameron he needs to lock his office when he is out of the office.

~s~

She had come in from Ray dropping her off for the night to find him already at the island countertop with a cutting board, knife, and vegetables. Instead of going straight to the bedroom to change, she dropped her bag on one of the barstools and stood behind him, wrapping an arm around him and leaning to the side so she could see his knife skills.

"Long day?" She asks quietly.

She feels him shrug and props her chin on his shoulder that he isn't actively using.

She sighs internally and realizes this may be a long night.

Her fingers run along his side before she backs away and sits on her perch next to him on the counter. Well, as close as she can get without being in his way or burned from the stove. He hates it when she sits on the countertop but he hasn't pushed her off yet and thinks he may be a little distracted.

"Scottie came by the office today," he tells her.

"She wanted a job?" Donna asks. Because it was easier to ask if she wanted a job rather than ask if she wanted him. She knows how to read people and saw the surprise in the woman's face that night.

"She thought I could make it happen since my name is on the door," he shrugs.

"Wall," she points out.

He looks over at her and cracks a smile despite not wanting to. She loves to make that semantic correction.

"She thought with my name on the wall, she could work with me. I told her if she had a job she'd be working for me," he says. He emphasizes the  _wall_  and  _for_  part and notices her smirk.

He pushes the loaf of bread on the wooden cutting board towards her.

"You love semantics, too," she points out. She points her created knife at him and if she was able to touch him, she'd probably poke him with her finger. She really was rubbing off on him as of late.

"I told her we were always better lawyers against one another," he says. He stops chopping as he holds her gaze.

She looks down and cuts four slices of bread from the loaf and sets them aside to put in foil to warm up in the oven.

"You know," she says as she rips off a piece of the French loaf at her side, "I think people under estimate your true self."

He scoffs.

"You do have a heart, Harvey," she points out. "It was a nice gesture."

She thinks he's pretending to ignore her.

"You're a good man, Harvey," she informs him.

"I did it because our record of going against one another is oh and three. Three wins being me."

She shakes her head and stays quiet. She eats her bread as he stirs the sauce for their spaghetti. He'll come around, she's sure of it.

"It was a gesture," he says after a few moments of silence.

"I know," she tells him.

"I love you," he reiterates.

"I know," she nods.

He finally looks up and conveys the statement wordlessly.

She swallows. A lump catches in her throat. She knows he does but he doesn't do emotions well-neither does she but he avoids them more than her-but she sees it written all over his face.

"I know," she says again.

He nods and goes back to watching his stirring.

She waits a few moments, lost in watching him with his precise movements. Nothing is wasted as he makes their dinner.

"I love you, too," she says quietly.

He looks up and gets a little cocky grin on his face.

"I know," he repeats her most used phrase. "Now get off the counter."

She laughs and throws a piece of the bread crust at him. She continues laughing when it lands and sputters crumbs all along his shirt. Her fingers drag along his waist as she moves past him into the bedroom to change from her outfit of the day into something more comfortable.

* * *

When he gets home, there's wedding planning stuff littering the entire kitchen table and the island countertop. It's sort of become their area for this. Well, the table. The island is something new and it sort of terrifies him. After all, they tend to eat at the bar/island counter, the couch, or occasionally in bed. The last few months of planning have really shown in the amount of things littered across the top. No longer can the glass be seen beneath the magazines and folders and the smattering of yellow legal pad papers. She's nowhere in sight and there's a note propped up in the middle of the mess on the island that has her elegant script. He opens it up and fights back a chuckle as he reads the note:  _too much planning; at tony's if you need me_.

He sets his briefcase down in the middle of the mess and takes off his suit jacket and places it on his chair back. He debates changing but thinks its' late and all he really wants is dinner and Donna, preferably both comfortably in bed where he can fall asleep next to her as she watches her guilty pleasure show, Real Housewives of Orange County. As he checks the room, he wonders why Ray just didn't drive him to where Donna was but that was moot point now. He grabs the keys to one of his own cars and heads to one of her favorite sanctuaries.

He finds her and her childhood friend in the back of the shop. The assistant manning the counter is familiar enough with him she just pulls the curtain back with a casual hello. He nods his own hello back and slips his hands into his pockets as he takes a look around the room. Instead of what he expects—her getting inked—she's sitting on one side of the table watching her friend draw. They speak in low, hushed tones and Tony clears his throat and her whisper turns to silence. She turns and smiles at him before turning back to Tony. He assumes she gives her friend a look because he vacates the room as soon as he steps behind her.

"It was too much," she begins.

He sits in the vacated chair and looks at her closely. He hasn't seen much of her between her late nights and his and he thinks that the whole planning thing is getting to both of them. She's always asleep when he gets home and five out of seven days she has already left by the time he wakes. There's post-it notes over ads with both of their scribbles of ideas or yay/nays and a piece of paper on the fridge that tells them what they need to do and the list seems never ending.

"I didn't expect it to be this complicated," she tells him.

He looks down at the drawing book Tony left and his fingers absently trace the patterns he finds there. He has no idea what it is but he assumes its her next work.

"It's hard when you've never envisioned it," she says honestly. And he knows he won't be offended because sometimes he feels the same way. She looks down and folds her hands in her lap.

It's not the funds or the timing or them that's the problem. It's their inability to be on the same page with tradition. Tradition wants the huge wedding with her family and the entire law community because they still can't believe Harvey Specter is getting married. He thinks they're both on the same page where eloping sounds good right about now.

"What if we made things easier," he tells her. It's more of a suggestion then asking her.

Her brows furrow and her eyes meet his as she looks up.

"You only need 24 hours after the application is approved," he tells her. He watches as she processes the information and sees where he's going with this.

"Are you…" she trails off.

"Judges are lining up for this," he tells her as he makes a gesture between the two of them. Each time he has a case there's a sidebar with the judge asking if he's picked a judge to sign their papers yet. "Everyone wants to be a part of this but I only have Jessica and Louis and Marcus and I can't even get a hold of Marcus these days."

"Where would we even have it?" She wonders.

"The top of Pearson Specter has some great views," he suggests.

She laughs heartily even though she's seriously considering doing this. Its on a whim and it seems like something they would both do. They want this but they don't want the spectacle that goes along with it. She wants both of them to still have their sanity by the end.

"You do know when the press gets a hold of this they'll call it a shotgun wedding," she informs him.

He shrugs. He doesn't care about the press. He likes it when Louis and Jessica take care of that for him. He rarely gives interviews after his big wins and when the press call about his famous clients, his assistant always says  _no comment_  or he directs them to someone else in the PR department to handle.

"Please," she whispers. It's the smallest of pleas but he takes it and nods. Its the least he can do for both of them.

He watches as she breathes a heavy sigh of relief. She sits up straighter, a weight lifted from her shoulders. It's the happiest he's seen her in a month.

"What about your family?" He wonders as an after thought. He sometimes forgets about them. Although, their bank account didn't forget them at Christmas. Well, the shipping of the packages reminded him she still had a large family. They had their own holiday in the Berkshires with no one around for miles and a little snowy cottage on the outskirts of a half frozen pond in the middle of the mountains.

She thinks maybe they'll all understand. But it's been a while since they last talked despite her mother's urging they needed to communicate more and she doesn't need any more of this added stress. She can already imagine the aftershock but it's better this way, she thinks. It's supposed to be about the two of them anyway, right?

"I just want us," she tells him. "No fancy parties or receptions or crowds of people wishing us well when they hardly know us."

He nods. He understands completely. He wonders how they're still so in sync after all this time.

"We can record it on a phone," he says.

She laughs.

"Maybe this summer we can go visit them and break the news," she tells him.

"Unless Louis updates his Facebook first," Harvey points out.

She sighs. She forgot about the whole Facebook thing and how Louis loves to post photos and updates.

"We'll think of something," she shrugs.

"You have a dress in mind?" He wonders.

She nods.

"You have a suit?" She wonders.

He nods.

"Any judge would be willing to fast track this, you know," he points out.

She shakes her head.

"My designer is in Spain," she tells him. "It won't take long but she's still finishing up the custom parts."

He nods in understanding.

"Your office or mine?" He asks as she tilts her head in question. "For the paperwork filling out requirement."

"Mine. Tomorrow," she tells him. "You have court until my meeting is finished at one."

"Okay," he agrees. He's not surprised she knows his schedule anymore.

There's a moment of silence and he turns back to the paper in front of him.

"What is this?" He asks.

"Designs for a new tattoo," she shrugs.

"What is it?" He asks again.

"Constellations," she says. "Aquarius and Sagittarius."

It takes him a few moments to understand that it's their star signs. He didn't even know she was into that sort of thing.

"Where's that going?" he wonders.

"That's what I'm trying to decide," she shrugs. "We were discussing placements when you came in."

He wonders if she'll get it and start another sleeve. Or if she'll get it somewhere else.

"It's still a work in progress," she shrugs. "He has a few more designs he wants to sketch out."

"Come on," he says. He stands from his chair and walks over to her side, holding out his hand for her to take.

"Where are we going?" She asks.

"Home," he tells her. "I'm starving and we're going to miss  _Real Housewives_."

She gets that little giggly laugh that only he can bring out and takes his hand. She shouts her goodbye to her best friend as he ushers her out the door.

* * *

Louis walks her down the makeshift aisle. Harvey's mouth opens slightly as he finally sees her and he closes it quickly as Jessica clears her throat. Time slows and speeds up at the same time. It seems as if it takes forever to get to where they're supposed to stand together and yet it also feels like a lifetime and the tossing and turning of nerves seems to abate with each step. When Donna and Harvey finally reach the end, she leans to her side and kisses Louis's cheek. He struts so proudly with her on his arm as if giving her away was one of the greatest accomplishments. He stands tall and makes himself appear past her shoulders and she holds in a small laugh at the thought. She has no doubt Harvey's associate captures the moment-apparently the rookie is an amateur photographer.

"Hi," she whispers as she turns to Harvey.

"Hi," he whispers back as he takes her hand in his and they turn to the judge and the skyline.

She purposely avoids his stare. Instead she looks at a point just beyond the judge and feels him watching her.

She doesn't have a bouquet nor a traditional dress. She skips the flowers because Louis is allergic and she really doesn't want him having more watery eyes than he already does. He's like a proud father and it tugs at her in ways she didn't really know how to describe.

Her dress wasn't a dress at all-instead it was two pieces by Cortana. She had instantly fell in love with it when she was looking at designs for the costumes for her showcase. She had gotten sidetracked that day and had called Louis down to Le Chat to discuss the design. He was the one who helped her make the final decisions for the final selection. Instead of the typical off-white design that would clash with her skin tone, it was wedding white. She should have laughed at this but it was really the only shade of white that suited her skin tone.

The Bucol top was fitted around her athletic frame and was custom-made so it was sleeveless. She had been apprehensive of the suggestion by Louis but he had her convinced as soon as he told her to remember what Harvey thought of her artistic side. The top itself was silky soft to the touch and lined with satin. The back was open—back cleavage, everyone calls it—and shows off one of the sparrows on her shoulder well. The other sparrow is only half showing underneath the fabric.

The Falda Peonia skirt was reminiscent of her old ballet costumes. It was very old school but not vintage enough to require the 'vintage' label. A tutu skirt with a small corset set just above her waist framed her. The cotton tulle and silk organza overlay was finer than anything she danced in and it made her feel like royalty in her own way. When she had tried it on with Louis waiting on the couch, she wondered if perhaps her dad would have given his stamp of approval to this not-dress dress. He always did love her performance costumes and would laugh heartily at her wedding "dress" option. When Louis got teary eyed and called her the most beautiful bride he's ever seen, she imagines her dad saying and doing the same thing. It was only then when she had really felt like this was happening. The skirt itself was a multi-layer, high-low with taste, the front reaching her knees and the back cascading down from that point.

She wears flats that are mock pointe shoes and she noticed Harvey notice them when she first stepped out of the door. They're a light blue in color, so light he thinks he's imagining it until he looks down and notices his eyes aren't deceiving him. At least the something new, old, borrowed, and blue tradition still works for them. It's probably the only traditional thing they do.

The vows take no more than a minute and twenty seconds of recitation by the judge and them saying ' _I do_ ' as they finally stand face to face. They'd only know this once they watch the iPhone video Rachel makes on her phone as she attempts to be in the moment and savor it at the same time. And maybe Donna asked her to record it so when her family guilts them they can at least show them what they wanted.

Harvey fingers his own band as the judge drones on about the symbolism of the rings. He thinks it may take some time to get used to the feeling. Right now it's strange but familiar at the same. His band is smooth on the outside but a classic David Yurman inside with the signature cable band lining it. It's platinum instead of silver because of course Donna knows him from her days when everyone sought after her and although he would have loved to design her a ring, she couldn't fault Harvey for going for the little blue box.

When he kisses her, his hand trails along the silk and rests at her waist, holding tight to the corseted waist as one of her hands cups his cheek. He rests his forehead against hers and he's sure their smiles mirror one another as he breathes a sigh of relief. She laughs quietly and bites her lower lip as they savor the moment.

Being introduced by the judge as Mister and Doctor Specter is amusing and she wouldn't have minded being Mrs Specter this one time but sees the point Harvey was trying to make when all is said and done and they look back on this day. She kisses him again because she can. And it's nice to finally feel a weight lifted off their shoulders.

* * *

Marcus Specter wasn't sure what to make of the situation as he went to surprise his brother. The last birthday card he received from his brother was moot point since the doorman said his brother no longer lived at the address and didn't know his new one. Knowing Harvey would be unlisted in the phone book, he went to the law office he found on the internet when he did a google search. He had seen the building and the change when he googled his own brother but it was strange to see it in person. Their last name hammered into a plate on the building's architecture brought home how successful his brother really is compared to him. When he steps inside the building, he can almost feel the power and success that hums in the atmosphere. Or maybe that's just his nerves. There's so much glass and marble and he wonders how its kept so clean and shiny. The windows don't even look like there's ever been a streak on the pane. He marvels what he can see up until he runs into the security checkpoint and the guard gives him a once over.

Security calls Harvey. Or maybe it's Harvey's secretary and she relates the message that he's here waiting in the lobby. Either way, his brother steps out of the bank of elevators and makes his way past the security gates. Marcus can see only a brief glimpse of a suit underneath a coat that probably costs more than all of what he has in savings. As Harvey stares at his younger brother, Marcus wonders when he's going to ever get a tour of the place. He's not sure if his brother is embarrassed to be seen with a man in jeans and plaid flannel with a worn olive army jacket over the top, or if he really does have somewhere to be but when he focuses on his brother the greeting is quick and Harvey's look is fleeting as he's handed a slip of paper with Harvey's new address and told to show himself in and help himself to whatever. Harvey hands over a thin card and told him to slip that in the card reader on the elevator and press the button for the eleventh floor. After Harvey briefly waits for confirmation he understood, he nods and thanks the security guard. He watches his brother walk out the revolving door and into a black Lexus idling at the sidewalk.

He was expecting the cold atmosphere of Harvey's last condo with the modern furniture that made you sit up straight and the chrome fixtures everywhere. The kind of condo you see in those architecture magazines where you know the person spends more time at their office than their home and that's why it's so impersonal and able to be photographed on any given day. He didn't expect for it to feel like a home. It looked like he had gotten a feminine touch since moving, as he noticed the warmer colors and little modern fixtures and furniture.

He made a circle around the living room, depositing his duffel bag at the end of the couch and admiring the size of the flat screen. His brother did always prefer the nicer, finer things in life and it looks like his electronics were no exception. He wonders if he starts visiting more often he can use catching up as an excuse even though it's mostly for a carefully balanced mooching. He was briefly tempted to snoop. Especially since there is a pair of women's running shoes underneath the coffee table. Instead, his stomach drew him away to the kitchen and he loaded up on cookies and made himself a sandwich. When he sank down on the couch to catch up on his television shows and wait for his brother to get home, he found the soft leather surrounded him. It was like laying on a cloud. He was surprised at the channel selection but he was thankful his brother subscribed to every channel available. He wondered how often he got to watch.

At seven pm he woke from a door shutting. It was soft but the noise was different than the drone of the sports announcers and alerted him to another presence.  
He opened his mouth to quip about his brother being home at some normal hour but froze when he sat up and found himself face to face with a woman.

"Hi," Donna said as she set her bag on a hook in the entryway and placed her keys in the ornate bowl below the hooks.

"Who…" Marcus asked slowly.

"Am I?" Donna asked with a raised brow as she walked from the door to the end of the couch. "I'm Donna."

He looked confused.

"Your brother's other half."

"Other half?" Marcus asked. He hated that his voice rose a notch and she noticed the change but didn't say anything.

"Wife," she notes as he looks at her with confusion. "You're Marcus, the musician and occasional brother."

"Wow, you've got Harvey nailed," he nods and is oddly fascinated with how she basically replicated Harvey's dismissive tone and stance when he informs others that his little brother followed in their father's footsteps. Although he admires his father, he has a sort of disdain for the profession as a whole.

"Nice to meet you," she tells him. She walks around to the couch where his head is at and holds out a hand.

He gets a better glimpse of her now and dumbly shakes her hand while not so subtly staring at her form. Her grip is really strong and he wonders if she's one of those people who judges someone on the strength of their handshake. She's dressed like an office worker and he wonders if she works for his brother. When she drops his hand and moves to the kitchen, he follows her with his eyes.

"Did you have dinner yet?" She asks.

"Uh, no," he says as he looks back at the clock.

He decided to make himself useful and get up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen. He found her staring at the fridge with her hands on her hips. She turned at the sound of his footsteps.

"I can bake really well and make a really good breakfast but the whole cooking dinner thing," she begins. "I mean, I can cook simple things but your brother is a far better cook. And he won't be home tonight. He had this case that got a lot more complicated..."

"You know, you're not very surprised to see me sleeping on your couch," Marcus tells her.

"Harvey told me you'd be here," she shrugs. She closes the fridge and fully faces him. "He was late in meeting me for lunch and explained he had to give stuff to you and that you'd probably be taking residence on our couch until I show you the guest room."

His brother knows him well. He can't really return the sentiment. He didn't even know his brother had a girlfriend let alone a wife.

"So, dinner?"

He gets that same looks Harvey does when she's too many steps ahead and he's trying to catch up.

Her lips quirk into a smile as she reaches for the phone in her blazer pocket.

"Do you like Indian food?" She wonders. Not that it's up to him. She's had a craving for Indian food all day and it hadn't let go. Which is strange because she doesn't even like Indian food.

He doesn't get a chance to reply as she begins an animated conversation with whomever answered at the restaurant's end.

~s~

She changes out of her work clothes and into her more comfortable training pants and a tank top. She throws one of Harvey's sweatshirts over her frame and looks at herself in the mirror sighing at the exhaustion written all over her face. She's also been feeling a little light headed and lethargic and puts it down to a day of running around. Harvey mentioned how she looked pale as they met for lunch but she put it off as being peckish at the time. She's had a long day and really just wanted dinner and then bed but now she has to entertain until her guest wants to sleep. She heads into the en suite and washes her face and places her hair in a bun before she uses the bathroom and finally makes her way out to the living room again.

He's sitting on the edge of the couch and moves to stand and she waves at him to sit back down.

She sits in the corner at the opposite of him and looks to the television before looking back to him and then her phone. She sees him shifting out of the corner of her eye and leans back into the couch and texts Harvey. She doesn't expect a response but she gets one anyway and he's wondering how his brother is. Its sweet, this brotherly side of him. She tells him they're both fine and she's going to feed him and interrogate him. He quickly responds back with a go easy he spooks easily. And maybe she can't wait until she sees the two of them interacting.

He's looking at her expectantly and luckily she's had practice with this awkward sort of forced introduction.

She notices he looks like Harvey. Kind of. Sort of. If Harvey was scruffier and had lighter hair that he didn't like to put an entire bottle of hair gel to. And if he didn't work out and run as much as he does. But his brother is also wrapped up in layers and she can't really judge him properly.

"So, a musician," she says as a conversation starter. She nods her head and looks at him with wide brown eyes asking him to enlighten her.

"No saxophones," he quips.

She chuckles. Harvey told her a few stories about his brother but he's not like what she imagined.

"I play guitar, mostly. I have one back home," he tells her.

"And home is?" She wonders.

"Los Angeles," he shrugs.

She nods but raises her brow.

"That's like saying I live in New York City."

He pauses not sure he understands.

"I go to various parts of Los Angeles for conferences all the time. My best friend has a place in Orange County but I'd clarify and say Santa Ana. If you asked where we live, I'd say Upper East Side," she sort of clarifies.

"West Covina," he shrugs.

He noticed how she hums and nods and gives that polite ' _oh_ ' that suggests she's been there before.

The silence stretches on and she stares at the television and he stares at her for a beat too long because she turns and raises her brow expectantly.

When he begins to work up the nerve to ask about her, the bell rings. She makes her way to the door and he watches her with rapt attention. And when she gets back to the couch she has to ask twice what he wants to drink.

She lines the takeout containers up and relates what they are to the younger Specter. Vada pav—a green chili and ginger spiced potato fritter in a bun with shredded coconut and garlic chutney on a bun—is a specialty from the little shop a few streets away that she actually enjoys when Harvey doesn't want to cook and is feeling a particular hankering for Indian food. She orders some vegetable momos, chili fry, and two curries round off the order. Her favorite chef even puts a little poori bhaji and spicy chili potatoes in there, knowing Harvey loves it for a snack the next day.

This is Harvey's kind of meal and she's started to enjoy it more but she still prefers her little Thai place a few blocks away from Pearson Specter that he doesn't like. She relates the spice content to Marcus telling him its the beginning stages of Indian food-she's new to the Indian cuisine and still turns her nose up at some of Harvey's choices.

Marcus likes it. He puts a little bit of everything on his plate and she sees the hint of skepticism but he eats it and she watched the skepticism turn to something else.

She writes off this dinner as a success.

Later, he sips at a beer that's too dark and bitter but he's not going to tell her that and seem weak. If his brother can drink it, so can he. Plus, she said Harvey often drank it with and after Indian food. He's walking around, surveying the room as he drinks with her view of him obstructed, and he finds an interesting picture he hadn't seen on his brief look around the condo before he had company.

He thinks it might be a wedding photo. But he doesn't know if white skirts are a wedding thing so maybe its just a photo of them at some event of his because it features four other people. He stares at her from a far and he wants to ask her a question but she's doing something that looks important.

"No, that's not distracting," she points out as she finally looks over at him. She has a blue pen between her lips and isn't looking over at him.

"How?" He wonders.

"I'm a professor," she says slowly. "I can tell when people are staring at me and want to ask me a question."

"Professor?" He asks as he moves closer.

"At New York University, you know, NYU?" She asks.

"So, you're not a lawyer," Marcus clarifies.

"I could have been one, according to Harvey's friends," she laughs. "But, no. I'm the Dean of Tisch and a professor of dance and theatre."

Marcus nods and sits on the couch again. He looks over her shoulder and then at her and she sighs internally.

She puts her students midterm papers aside and moves to a door that's been closed tight and she hasn't ventured into until now. She comes back with a small stack of magazines and deposits them on the cushion next to him.

"Reading material about us. Have fun," she tells him.

She picks up her papers and pens and waits until he looks up at her.

"I'm going to go not be a distraction in the office," she tells him. "Just knock if you have questions the magazines can't answer."

~s~

Marcus would never label himself as an observant person. Nor would he say he's particularly content people watching. But there's something about his brother and his brother's wife that mystifies and transfixes him. They don't mesh but they do. They're a pair of conundrums wrapped in an enigma… or two. Then again, he finds they're still newlyweds and therefore by definition they have to be weird and domestic and want to spend all their time together. They eat breakfast with each other every morning. He always finds Harvey with a cup of coffee out on the balcony enjoying his kingdom he overlooks. Donna will sneak out from god only knows where and sneak behind him or in front of him and its one time when he's observing the setting is where he really sees what makes them tick.

He watches in the relative shadows of the living room as she leans into his brother as they stand outside on the balcony with their cups of coffee. He's sort of mesmerized by his new sister-in-law and it has little to do with how he just found out that she has a sleeve and a half of tattoos and more and he's supposed to be the cliched musician with that yet he's too afraid of needles to do anything like that. She's doing most of the talking and there's pointing to inside and he wonders if they speak of him. He's mostly entertained himself since he came unannounced and he thinks maybe next time he'll make sure to call ahead and even schedule something with them. He hears both their voices but they're muffled by the glass that separates them. But he locks eyes a moment later with Donna as she folds herself into Harvey's arms and he wonders if she knows he had been there the entire time.

He sits in on one of Donna's classes because she asked and he's bored at their condo by himself and he's already toured the city with his band that one time and he thinks he'd rather get the scoop on the city rather than the tourist package. Plus, his brother claims he has meetings and can't change his schedule around. Marcus shrugs and just wants a tour eventually. So, he marvels at his sister-in-law and her ability to control students.

After class, Donna takes him near Pearson Specter and he wonders if Harvey's changed his schedule around but then they enter a coffee shop and he's confused.

"You want to know about us?" Donna asks as she looks back to Marcus. "This is where it all began."

Marcus looks around the small shop and its nothing to really write home about but she leads him to the counter and the barista starts making a drink and he just orders a drip coffee and she orders more bakery goods than she should but she knows he'll eat them. After all, her cookies disappeared ridiculously quick after his arrival.

"Wait, this is the place you own," Marcus says as he finally connects the dots and the magazine interviews he's been reading.

Donna nods and leans back in her chair she's picked. It's the same one she was sitting in when Harvey first came in with Louis. One of the student-baristas brings her coffee over and asks if she has a moment. She nods and leaves Marcus at the table with his coffee, pastries, and his curiosity.

She's a lot more comfortable around him when she's in her element.

"You get ten questions," she tells him when she comes back and folds her arms on the table in front of her and wraps her hands around her coffee cup. "Make them good."

When she sees his eyes drift down to her bare arms, she sighs. She supposes all ten questions can't be intellectual ones.

~s~

She had come home from a meeting with a designer label bag. Harvey was nowhere to be found and when she dumped the bag on his lap and told him to shower and change into one of these outfits, he did as he was told. The slacks and button down shirt fit his slender frame perfectly and he had done something with his hair and actually trimmed his beard a little. He had no idea what was happening but he didn't want to start off on the wrong foot with his sister-in-law. It was still such a strange thing to picture, his brother being married.

"Ray, this is Harvey's brother, Marcus," Donna says as she gets in the car behind the driver's seat as Marcus makes his way over to the passenger seat. "Marcus, this is Ray."

Donna and Ray traded quips the entire drive and Marcus looked out the window as they pulled up next to a curb.

"Should I wait?" Ray asks Donna as he helps her out of the car and Marcus comes around to the sidewalk.

"I think he's going to get a tour and then they'll head across the street for dinner," Donna says as she shakes her head.

"Have fun with Mr. Litt," Ray tells her.

She laughs and shakes her head before hiking the hem of her dress' skirt up a little to walk properly and nods towards the building's entrance.

He would have stared at his brother's name, his name, for a while but Donna looped her arm around his and started walking towards the left side of the hallway.

"Hi, Cameron," Donna says as she looks briefly at the man packing up at the cubicle outside Harvey's office and the man gave her an enthusiastic hello back with a compliment on her dress.

Harvey stands up from behind his desk and meets her in front of his desk as he runs his hands along her hip as he pulls her close.

"Have I told you how much I hate your Friday night dates?" He asks. "You don't get dressed up like this for our dates."

"Almost every Friday for the last few years," she laughs as she wraps her own arm around him. "Maybe if we made it out of the condo I'd dress up for you."

"Wait, what's happening?" Marcus asks.

Harvey turns and finally acknowledges his brother.

"She's going wherever with Louis and we're going to dinner," Harvey says. "Didn't you explain?"

"My meeting ran late," she shrugs.

Louis stands at the threshold of Harvey's office and he clears his throat.

"What's tonight?" Harvey asks.

"Ballet gala," Louis says as he straightens. "At the MET. They're going to be surprised."

"Are you..." Harvey trails off quietly.

"I'll be fine," she nods. "But we're going to be late for dinner."

"Fine," Harvey sighs.

She leans up and kisses him and adjusts his tie and checks for lipstick smudges before leaving with a quiet  _love you_.

Marcus leaned against the couch and looked at his brother.

"She has Friday night dates with another man?" He asks.

"It's Louis," Harvey shrugs. "They've been doing this long before we were married or even engaged."

He goes back to his chair and pulls his suit jacket from the back and pulls it on over his vest.

"I'll show you this floor and then we'll go to dinner or whatever Donna set up," he tells his brother.

"You don't know what she had planned?" Marcus asks.

Harvey's phone dings in his pocket and it's his reservation details. He shakes his phone at his brother and then makes a sweeping gesture to his office. Harvey shows him the floor and introduces him to Jessica, Rachel, and Mike. His brother and Mike are getting along well and it's just like he predicted because he noticed the same qualities of his brother in Mike.

He has Marcus stay with Mike and Rachel while he finishes his paperwork and packs up his briefcase and Marcus gets a glimpse into his brothers world that he'd never get from the man himself.

"You want to know anything?" Rachel asks as she sees Marcus looking around.

"How long have they been married?" He asks. He only asked Donna one dumb question about her tattoos and the went into more topics about his brother which she was happy to relate. He hadn't wasted questions he could get answered by another.

"Almost two months," Mike tells him. "They're magazine spread should be coming out any day."

"Why?" Rachel asks.

"There's no pictures at the condo," he shrugs. "Well, not in the family room. And I don't think I want to go in their bedroom."

Mike and Rachel share a look of confusion as Mike opens up his drawer and takes out a few files and finds a manila envelope. He hands it to Harvey's brother and nods as he takes it.

"Harvey and Donna have one set but I don't know where they keep it," Mike says.

"Her desk drawer in the office," Rachel says helpfully.

Marcus opens the manila envelope and sees the familiar looking outfit of Donna he saw in that one picture. So he really was looking at their wedding photo the first night he was there.

"Did they do anything traditional?" Marcus asks as he flips through the stack.

"We're not traditional," Harvey says from behind his brother. He leans over his brother's shoulder and finds him looking through pictures. "You could have asked. She won't bite you."

"She only gave me ten questions to ask. Do you have any tattoos?" Marcus asks as he flips to a picture where Mike really focused on Donna rather than Harvey.

"Come on, we're walking to give Ray a longer break so he can eat dinner with his family," Harvey tells him.

"That's an evasive answer," Mike points out.

Rachel at least has the decency to wait to laugh until Harvey and his brother are out of the room.

"You should ask Donna," Mike says as an after thought.

* * *

A week after his brother leaves back for home with a promise to call when he wants to return again, she's come down with a bug. He told her to stay home and for the most part she does and spends most of her day in bed and only gets up when she needs to puke. Despite her efforts to eat, she's been losing weight and he gets concerned when it's approaching week two and she's still down for the count. His case has finally gone to court which means he can't get a stay and be home with her. Granted, at the longer breaks like for lunch he comes home and checks on her and makes her small meals but that's about all he can do. At least with court, he doesn't have the long days. Louis comes over with a mask and latex gloves and she can't help but laugh as she sees his ensemble when she wakes up and he's putting a glass of water by her bedside table.

There's one thing she can't miss though and she's in a departmental meeting and sitting at the head of the table, half listening to the presentation on incorporating a class of western civilization with an intro to theatre class, when another professor is suddenly in her face. She feels the cool touch of his hands and its almost as if she's underwater as she looks up at the concerned faces of her department. She doesn't remember much after that but she thinks she asks them to call Louis because Harvey was in court before it's all a flash of light and dark as she succumbs to her lightheadedness.

When he finds her, she's half sitting, half laying down on a propped up hospital bed at NYU's Langone Medical Center a few blocks from Tisch. Her arms are wrapped around her waist and he can see a lead running from one of her arms to an IV hydration bag near her bed and he quietly opens the door. Her head turns at the quiet interruption.

"You're lucky Judge Palermo loves Louis," he says as he reaches the bed.

She looks up at him and regards his skewed tie and the hair and she feels bad for scaring him.

"You should sit," she tells him. "You look pale."

"Well, when Louis comes rushing into the courtroom and asks for a sidebar when he's not even second chair and gives me that look," he trails off.

"Sorry," she whispers.

"You okay?" He wonders.

"I'll be fine," she sighs. "At least the view is nice."

"It's not just a cold or the flu," he half states, half questions.

"It's just Hyperemesis gravidarum," she says with an imploring look.

"How about layman's terms," he tells her.

She unfolds her hand and she has a small slip of paper folded in two and hands it to him.

He opens the paper and finds a small cherry blossom that's similar to the ones on her tattoo on one side. The other side has little dots and lines in the shape of a demented heart or a triangle with an extra part. He honestly has no idea what it means. He looks at her and watches as she exposes her inner arm of the less-sleeved arm and finds their zodiac constellations staring up at him. And he notices she's placed her hand with the lead back around her waist.

It slowly dawns on him.

"You're…" he trails off unsure if he's guessed right.

"Eight weeks," she whispers. She bites her lip and sighs before continuing. "I have to have medical leave until this abates. If I can't even make it fifteen minutes into a meeting..."

"And how long is that?" He asks when he sees she's trailed off because she doesn't know what else to say.

"Second trimester to the time he or she is born," she gives him half a shrug.

"I wonder if your ratemyprofessor score will go up," he ponders.

She laughs and sighs aloud.

"They're going to be excited to get a reprieve," she notes.

"They'll miss you," he points out.

"Doubtful," she notes.

"You don't make a very compelling argument," he tells her.

"You're a pretty good lawyer," she tells him and she reaches for his fingers as he traces the drawing she had quickly made up. "But I think you'll make a great dad."

He swallows hard and nods. He accidentally crushes the paper in his hands and comes around to the other side of the bed because the line is on the side he's currently sitting near. She tries to sit up but she's still a little weak feeling and her head's still light and heavy at the same time. And she's been half-sitting, half-laying here apprehensive about telling him of this because they never really expected it to happen this fast and here they are with her in a hospital bed for acute morning sickness and he's looking at her like she's his whole world. And he sits at her hip and leans in and kisses her. Its not bold and brazen but comfortable and familiar. He whispers his thanks against her lips and he pulls her away from the bed to wrap his arms around her. And hot tears fall despite her struggle to keep them at bay and her arms wrap around his frame.

"Your family is going to kill us," he whispers against her.

She laughs and he lets her lean back down on the bed gently and runs his fingers across her forearm a few times before holding her hand. She turns her head on her pillow and she tells him they have an ultrasound in the morning.

He tells her to rest and she follows his suggestion for once and he waits until she's sleeping before sending out a group text telling his anxious co-workers she's fine and sends a personal text to Louis thanking him for being there. And after he gets the replies back, he sticks his phone in his coat pocket and loosens his tie as he moves from the bed to the uncomfortable chair beside her. And he opens up the piece of paper again and stares at it.

Their lives are changing all from a single meeting in a coffee shop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and if you want a peek at what i mention in here: cortana.es/en/novias/top-bucol-falda-peonia


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